LATIN    C.OU 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


BY  WILLIAM  CLEAVER  WILKINSON. 


PREPARATORY  GREEK  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH. 
PREPARATORY  LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH, 
COLLEGE  GREEK  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH, 
COLLEGE  LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH, 


BY   THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 

A  FREE  LANCE.    (A  VOLUME  OF  ESSAYS.) 

WEBSTER.    AN  ODE.    WITH  NOTES. 

POEMS. 

THE  DANCE  OF  MODERN  SOCIETY. 

EDWIN  ARNOLD  AS  POETIZER  AND  AS  PACANIZER, 


FOR   SALE    BY 

THE    CHAUTAUQUA     PRESS, 

805  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


THE  AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


PREPARATORY 


7" 


IN  ENGLISH. 


WILLIAM  CLEAVER  (WILKINSON 


JW1. 


THIRTY-FIFTH  THOUSAND. 


NEW  YORK: 

C  H  A  U  TA  UQUA    PRESS. 
C.  L.  S.  C.  Department. 

1885. 


The  required  books  of  the  C.  L.  S.  C.  are  recommended  by 
a  Council  of  six.  It  must,  however,  be  understood  that  recom- 
mendation does  not  involve  an  approval  by  the  Council,  or  by 
any  member  of  it,  of  every  principle  or  doctrine  contained  in  the 
book  recommended. 


Copyright  1883,  by  PiiiLUi'S  <ii  HUNT,  805  Broadway,  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


THIS  is  not  a  school-book — though,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
designed  to  be  a  book  that  any  boy  or  girl  in  school  would  like 
to  read,  and  would  read  with  profit.  It  is  not  a  book  to 
be  studied  and  labored  over — though,  again,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  designed  to  be  such  that  some  study  and  labor 
spent  on  it  would  prove  to  have  been  pains  not  ill  bestowed. 
It  is,  however,  pre-eminently  a  book  to  be  simply  read  and 
enjoyed.  It  is  not  prepared  for  any  one  particular  class  of 
persons  exclusively,  but — unless  we  should  except  Latin 
specialists — for  all  classes  of  persons  alike.  It  is  in  no  sense 
a  technical  book.  It  conveys  information,  but  it  is  informa- 
tion that  every  intelligent  reader  will  be  glad  to  acquire; 
and  it  seeks  to  convey  that  information  in  a  way  to  make 
the  process  itself  of  acquiring  it  not  only  easy,  but  agreeable. 
What  is  the  nature,  and  what  the  extent,  of  the  information 
sought  thus  to  be  conveyed,  the  first  chapter  of  the  book  will 
sufficiently  show. 

The  term  Preparatory,  found  in  the  title  of  the  volume, 
admits  a  word  of  explanation.  It  is  there  used  in  a  certain 
special  or  limited  sense.  In  the  business  of  liberal  educa- 
tion, this  term  has,  by  common  consent,  been  adopted  to 
designate  and  describe  that  course  of  preliminary  training 
which  prepares  the  student  for  admission  to  college.  A 
similar  limitation  of  meaning  applies  to  the  term  as  we 


1562GSS 


6  Preface. 

employ  it  in  entitling  our  volume.  The  introductory  relation 
expressed  by  it  is  not  to  general  culture  in  Latin  letters,  but 
to  that  more  or  less  definite  culture  in  Latin  letters  which  is 
ordinarily  given  in  an  American  college  or  university  curricu- 
lum of  study. 

What,  accordingly,  is  undertaken  in  the  quaternion  of 
books,  of  which  this  volume  constitutes  the  second,  is  dic- 
tated and  prescribed  by  the  well-established  customs  of  our 
American  institutions  of  higher  education.  We  do  not  in 
these  books  pursue  a  path  of  our  own  independent  selecting. 
If  such  were  the  case,  our  steps  might  possibly  here  or  there 
take  a  somewhat  different  direction.  As  it  is,  we  adhere  to  a 
course  laid  down  for  us  beforehand  by  the  experienced  en- 
gineer corps  of  the  great  regular  army  of  American  classical 
education.  Or  if  in  speaking  thus  we  speak  a  little  too 
boldly — if  it  is  not  in  exactly  this  almost  sacred  ancient 
way  that  we  should  dare  talk  of  here  conducting  our  readers, 
then  it  is  at  least  in  a  parallel  path  drawn  as  closely  as  pos- 
sible alongside  of  that.  A  shibboleth  only  separates  us 
with  our  modest  irregular  troop  of  lusty  light-armed  volun- 
teers from  the  uniformed  regulars,  who,  under  the  eye  of 
accomplished  commanders,  march  in  heavier  panoply  step  by 
step  at  our  side.  Those  speak  as  they  can — God  bless  them 
and  help  them  ! — their  oft-faltering  Latin  and  Greek,  while 
our  looser  light-hearted  array  moving  forward  chant  their 
song  of  deliverance,  never  missing  a  note,  in  the  easy  habit- 
ual accents  of  their  own  dear  mother-tongue. 

This,  then,  is  a  book  for  readers  in  general,  of  whatever 
class.  Still,  several  classes  of  readers  may  be  named  to  whom 
the  book  is  especially  commended.  Whoever  is  considering 


Preface,  7 

whether  he  will  prepare  for  college,  whoever  is  now  engaged 
in  preparing  for  college,  whoever  is  already  a  student  in  col- 
lege, whoever  has  left  a  college  course  unfinished,  whoever 
has  accomplished  a  college  course  and  been  graduated,  would, 
if  we  have  not  failed  in  our  attempt,  find  it  agreeable  and  use- 
ful to  read  this  book.  Again,  and  emphatically,  to  all  the  far 
greater  number  of  those  whom  circumstances  have  debarred 
from  even  the  hope  of  gaining  classical  culture  for  themselves 
— to  such  the  author  would  say,  It  is  for  you  by  eminence 
that  this  book  has  been  written.  The  key  is  here  offered  to 
your  hand.  Take  it  and  unlock  for  yourselves  the  door,  no 
longer  sealed  against  your  entrance,  to  treasures  no  longer 
charmed  from  your  possessorship  and  enjoyment.  If  your 
satisfaction  in  having  and  holding  shall  be  half  as  great  as  his 
satisfaction  has  been  in  thus  making  it  possible  for  you  to  have 
and  to  hold,  the  author,  knowing  this,  would  feel  his  reward 
to  be  complete. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 
WHAT  WE  PROPOSE 1 1 


II. 
THE  CITY  AND  THE  PEOPLE 16 

III. 
THE  LITERATURE  OF  ROME , 45 

IV. 

A  WORD  OR  Two  OF  ADVICE 55 

V. 
THE  LATIN  READER 63 

VI. 

CAESAR I  i6 

VII. 
CICERO'S  ORATIONS 194 

VIII. 
VIRGIL 225 

APPENDIX 310 

1* 


PEEPAEATOET 

LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH, 


I. 

WHAT  WE  PROPOSE. 

THE  present  volume  is,  in  order  of  preparation  and  pub- 
lication, the  second  one  in  a  series  of  four  books,  devoted, 
all  of  them,  to  the  same  general  purpose.  That  purpose  is 
to  conduct  readers,  by  means  of  the  English  tongue  alone, 
through  substantially  the  same  course  of  discipline  in  Greek 
and  Latin  literature — not,  observe,  Greek  and  Latin,  the 
languages,  but  Greek  and  Latin  literature — as  is  accomplished 
by  students  who  are  graduated  from  our  American  colleges. 
The  first  volume  of  the  series  sought  in  this  manner  to  go 
over  the  ground  in  Greek  literature  usually  traversed  by  the 
student  in  course  of  preparing  himself  to  be  a  college  matric- 
ulate. That  volume  was  entitled,  "  PREPARATORY  GREEK 
COURSE  IN  ENGLISH." 

This  succeeding  volume  will  seek  to  do  the  same  thing 
for  Latin  literature.  If  we  ourselves,  therefore,  do  not,  in 
preparing  this  volume,  fall  short  of  our  mark,  whoever  reads 
the  volume  with  suitable  attention  will,  having  so  read  it,  be  as 
well-informed  in  the  literature  of  the  Romans,  as  are  students 
who  have  triumphantly  passed  their  entrance  examinations 
for, college,  and  have  thus  become  duly  numbered  in  the 
ranks  of  proud  and  happy  freshmen.  The  present  volume 
bears  the  title,  "PREPARATORY  LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGIISH." 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in   English. 


The  third  book  will  proceed  with  Greek  literature,  through 
those  successive  stages  of  advance  in  Greek  study  at  college 
which  are  appointed  to  bring,  at  his  graduation,  the  ingenuous 
and  felicitous  youth  to  the  goal  of  the  degree  of  bachelor  of 
arts.  The  third  volume  is  to  be  styled,  "  COLLEGE  GREEK 
COURSE  IN  ENGLISH." 

The  fourth  and  final  book  will  forward  the  reader  to  a 
station  of  progress  in  knowledge  of  Latin  letters  correspond- 
ing with  that  fixed  as  the  mark  for  our  third  book  with 
reference  to  Greek.  The  fourth  book  will  be  named,  "  COL- 
LEGE LATIN  COURSK  IN  ENGLISH." 

The  watchful  reader  will  have  noticed  that  we  make  a  dis- 
tinction. We  say  Greek  and  Latin  literature — not  Greek  and 
Latin,  the  languages  themselves.  We  do  not  hope  or  aim  to 
make  linguists  of  our  readers.  Greek  and  Latin  scholars 
they  will  not  become,  however  heedfully  they  may  read  these 
books  of  ours.  Obviously,  no  such  result  as  actual  Greek 
and  Latin  scholarship,  on  the  part  of  student  or  reader, 
could  be  obtained  by  a  course  of  training  conducted  purely 
in  English.  But  to  know  Greek  and  Latin  letters — letters  as 
distinguished  from  the  languages  in  which,  the  letters  are  pro- 
duced— this  is  an  entirely  possible  thing  for  accomplishment 
through  English  alone.  And  this  possible  thing  is  what  we 
here  attempt  to  enable  our  readers  actually  to  do.  Not, 
then,  knowledge  of  the  languages  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and 
not  that  peculiar  discipline  of  mind  which  is  to  be  obtained 
through  the  pursuit  of  such  knowledge,  and  in  that  way 
alone  ;  not  these  two  things — highly  desirable  indeed,  both 
of  them,  to  all,  but  not  to  all  attainable — are  the  scope  of 
the  present  series  of  books;  but  simply  and  solely  a  certain 
degree  of  familiarity  \vith  Greek  and  Roman  literature. 
This,  primarily  ;  and  then,  secondarily,  too,  the  mental  culti- 
vation that  inevitably,  in  the  process  of  gaining  the  know- 
ledge, comes  with  the  knowledge  itself  that  is  gained. 

No  reader  need  now  misunderstand  us.   Our  aim  is  a  practical 


What  ive  Propose.  13 


one.  It  is  not,  on  our  own  part,  foolishly  aspiring.  It  should 
breed  no  foolish  conceit  on  the  part  of  any  reader.  No 
truly  intelligent  reader  of  our  books  will  ever  be  found  boast- 
ing th?t  he  lias  come  to  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  by  a 
royal  road.  To  that  knowledge  there  is  no  royal  road.  No 
royal  road — though  a  road  there  is,  we  verily  believe,  much 
more  nearly  worthy  of  being  called  royal  than  the  one  that 
up  to  this  time  has  usually  been  traveled  in  our  schools  and 
colleges.  Of  that,  perhaps,  in  some  future  issue  of  this  "After- 
school  Series  "  we  may  speak  ;  but  we  will  not  speak  of  it 
here.  We  say  there  is  no  royal  road  to  Greek  and  Latin 
scholaiship.  Whatever  flattering  opinion  you,  dear  reader, 
that  have  never  studied  Greek  and  Latin,  may  kindly  enter- 
tain of  the  road  we  build  for  you — call  it  royal,  if  you  please, 
and  many  thanks  for  your  good-will — still,  let  there  be  no 
mistake  as  to  whither  the  road  built  by  us  leads.  It  does  not 
lead  to  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin,  but  only  to  some 
real  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  letters.  You  will,  indeed, 
be  able  to  talk  with  college-bred  men  and  women,  on  a 
tolerable  footing  of  equality,  about  Greek  books  and  Latin. 
But  when  it  comes  to  a  comparison  of  your  knowledge  with 
theirs,  in  the  matter  of  Greek  and  Latin,  the  languages  them- 
selves, you  will  discreetly  and  modestly  be  silent.  You  may 
inwardly  suspect — and  one  chance  at  least  in  ten  your  sus- 
picion will  be  correct— that  your  graduate  friends,  too,  might 
better  be  silent  themselves,  than  loquacious,  on  these  same 
delicate  topics  of  accurate  scholarship.  Real  scholars  in 
Greek  and  Latin  are  not  very  plentiful.  But  that  fact  let 
college-bred  people  themselves  be  the  ones  to  avow.  Enough 
for  you,  not  disputing  the  avowal  when  made,  quietly  to  en- 
joy the  substantial  satisfaction  of  conscious  peerage  with  the 
liberally  educated  in  familiarity  with  ancient  classic  litera- 
ture— which  familiarity  is,  after  all,  the  really  liberalizing 
thing  in  classical  education. 

It    is    not    meant    that    the    substance    only    of    what    is 


14  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

contained  in  the  portions  of  Roman  literature  represented,  is 
sought  to  be  here  conveyed  to  English  readers.  Besides  the 
substance,  we  seek  to  convey  also  the  spirit  of  the  works. 
In  any  body  of  literature  there  may  be  said  to  be  three  ele- 
ments, somewhat  separate  one  from  another,  a  substance,  a 
spirit,  and  a  form.  Of  these  three  elements,  so  far  as  they 
are  indeed  separable  one  from  another,  we  shall  hope,  then, 
to  communicate  to  our  readers  two — the  spirit,  as  well  as  the 
substance.  The  form  we  have  mainly  to  forego — it  being 
precisely  our  object,  out  of  Latin  molds  of  expression,  to  take 
up  and  transfuse  into  molds  of  expression  that  are  English, 
the  ideas  and  the  genius  that  we  discover  contained  in  the 
works  to  be  reproduced. 

Something,  no  doubt,  of  spirit  is  always  inextricably  en- 
tangled with  form  in  every  literary  production.  Something, 
therefore,  of  the  Roman  spirit  we  unavoidably  lose  in 
sacrificing  the  Roman  form.  But  then,  on  the  other  hand, 
in  compensation,  the  spirit  is  always  so  much  the  master  of 
form — so  much,  in  fact,  the  maker  of  form — in  literary  expres- 
sion, that  when  we  seize  the  authentic  spirit  of  a  writing,  we, 
with  this,  triumphantly  seize,  also,  more  or  less  trace  and  effect 
of  the  very  form  itself  in  which  that  writing  was  originally 
conceived  and  cast.  To  this  extent,  accordingly,  we  may 
hope  to  save  even  the  Roman  form  of  expression.  In  other 
words,  English  diction  and  English  construction  may,  and 
indeed,  in  good  reproduction,  they  inevitably  will,  somewhat 
conform  and  assimilate  to  the  idiom  of  that  Latin  literature 
whose  spirit  they  submit  themselves  to  transfuse. 

Somewhat,  we  say — for  after  all,  practically,  the  degree  per- 
mitted of  conformity  to  Latin  idiom  must  be  restrained  within 
narrow  limits.  We  expect  here  to  write  English,  not  Latin, 
and  not  Latinized  English,  but  English  of  the  good  old  vernac- 
ular sort.  Still,  our  readers  may  justly  presume  that  they  will 
get  something  of  even  the  form — as  we  hold  them  entitled  to 
get  nearly  in  full  the  spirit  and  the  substance — of  the  Latin 


What  we  Propose. 


literature  treated.  Once  more,  let  it  be  remembered  that 
what  we  undertake  is  not  to  reproduce  Latin  authors'  works 
entire,  or  even  any  single  work  of  any  single  Latin  author 
entire;  but,  in  absolute  strictness  of  statement,  to  reproduce 
substantially  such  Latin  works  as  are  read  in  preparation 
for  entering  college,  and  of  those  works,  such  parts  only  as 
are  ordinarily  gone  over  by  the  preparatory  student  in  his 
class-room.  If  we,  here  or  there,  go  beyond  these  rigorous 
limits — and  we  do  not  engage  but  that  we  may — this  must 
not  be  regarded  as  creating  a  new  and  different  obligation 
to  be  discharged  by  us  to  our  readers.  It  will  be  simply  giv- 
ing our  readers  a  little  more  than  we  agree.  This,  of  course, 
we  shall,  on  every  available  occasion,  be  very  glad  to  do. 

And  now  may  we  not,  without  presumption,  aspire  to  es- 
tablish some  agreeable  reciprocity  of  relation  between  our- 
selves and  our  readers?  We  very  cordially  invite  any  and 
every  reader  of  this  volume  who  may  light  upon  a  mistake  in 
it,  of  the  author's  or  of  the  printer's,  mistake  grave  or  trivial 
— and  no  matter  how  trivial — to  point  out  to  us  the  discovery 
as  soon  as  it  is  made.  It  is  our  earnest  desire  to  have  our 
work  as  free  as  possible  from  errors  of  whatever  sort.  We 
shall  thankfully  welcome  also  the  suggestion  of  any  change, 
either  in  plan  or  in  execution,  that  might  promise  to  render 
what  we  here  do  more  widely  acceptable  or  more  effectively 
useful.  We  are  already  in  debt  to  a  number  of  friendly 
volunteer  correspondents,  unknown  to  us  by  face,  who  were 
at  the  pains  to  apprise  us  of  slips  made  by  the  author  or  the 
printer  in  the  companion  volume  that  preceded  this,  namely, 
the  "  Preparatory  Greek  Course  in  English."  We  shall  be 
gratefully  glad  if  we  may  feel  ourselves  to  be,  in  the  endeavor 
to  make  our  books  faultless,  of  one  guild  and  fellowship  with 
all  our  readers. 

Our  plan  of  procedure  in  the  present  volume  will  be 
this :  after  a  rapid  sketch  of  Roman  history  blended  with 
a  sketch  of  the  city  of  Rome  itself,  the  seat  of  Roman 


16  Preparatory  Latin   Course   in  English. 


power  and  the  origin  of  Latin  letters,  summarily  to  pre- 
sent the  body  of  writing  that  the  Roman  people  produced  ; 
and  then,  a  brief  parenthetical  chapter  intervening,  of  friend- 
ly counsel  to  the  student,  to  take  up,  successively,  the  Latin 
Reader,  (which  we  shall  make  include  some  specimens  of 
Sallust  and  of  Ovid,)  the  Commentaries  of  Caesar,  a  few  ora- 
tions of  Cicero,  and  the  poetry,  especially  the  ^Eneid,  of 
Virgil. 

It  is  a  loaded  table  of  contents  to  spread  in  a  single 
volume  before  our  readers.  But  we  will  trust  their  appetite, 
as  we  shall  have  to  ask  them  to  trust  our  cookery.  The 
quality,  not  less  than  the  quantity,  of  the  provision,  is  amply 
good.  It  will,  we  confess  it  beforehand,  be  the  fault  of  the 
cook  if  the  feast  is  disappointing. 


II. 

THE  CITY  AND  THE  PEOPLE. 

WE  are  about  to  deal  with  certain  limited  portions  of  the 
literature  called  Latin.  The  literature  called  Latin  was  pro- 
duced by  a  people  called  Roman,  chiefly  in  a  city  called  Rome. 
Before  entering  upon  the  presentation  of  the  proposed  select 
portions  of  Latin  literature,  we  pause,  but  a  swift  moment  or 
two,  to  say  something  of  the  people  that  produced  the  litera- 
ture, and  of  the  city  in  which  the  literature  was  produced. 

When,  in  the  preceding  volume,  we  began  the  correspond- 
ing work  with  Greek  literature,  we  were  able  to  consider  the 
land  and  the  people  separately,  in  separate  chapters.  In  the 
present  case,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  blend  the  place  and 
the  race  in  one  joint  and  common  treatment.  The  reason 
lor  the  difference  is,  that  Greece,  however  small  in  area,  was 
yet  a  country,  and,  as  such,  had  its  peculiar  character,  inde- 
pendently of  its  inhabitants ;  whereas  Rome,  however  large 


The  City  and  the  People.  1 7 

in  area,  was  a  city,  not  a  country,  and,  as  a  city,  took  its 
character  and  its  history  from  the  character  and  the  history 
of  the  people  that  built  it  and  that  held  it.  It  is  true  that 
Rome,  at  a  comparatively  early  point  in  her  long  historic 
career,  extending  the  right  of  citizenship  to  Italy  in  general, 
thus  converted  the  whole  peninsula  into  one  great  suburb  to 
the  metropolis.  Still,  Rome  herself  always  remained  so  cen- 
tral and  so  controlling  in  the  national  system,  that  we  shall 
best  represent  the  reality  to  our  readers  by  concentrating 
their  attention  almost  exclusively  upon  the  city  alone. 

Over  every  thing  pertaining  to  Rome,  except  her  language 
and  her  literature,  the  name  Roman  lords  it  exclusively.  We 
say,  Roman  power,  Roman  conquest,  Roman  law,  Roman 
architecture,  Roman  art,  Roman  history.  It  is  curious  that 
the  language  always,  and  the  literature  generally,  of  Rome 
should  be  called,  not  Roman,  but  Latin.  The  circumstance 
maybe  taken  to  indicate,  what  is  indeed  the  fact  in  reference 
to  Rome,  that  literature  was  for  her  a  subordinate  interest. 
Unlike  Greece,  Rome  is  less  remarkable  for  what  she  wrote, 
than  for  what  she  wrought.  Less  remarkable,  we  say;  but 
this  could  easily  be  and  Roman  writings  remain,  as  in  fact 
they  do  remain,  in  a  very  high  degree  remarkable.  For  the 
deeds  of  Rome  surpass,  in  enduring  influence  on  the  fort- 
unes of  mankind,  the  deeds  of  any  other  nation  in  the  world. 
If  Rome  wrote  with  her  left  hand  while  she  wrought  with 
her  right,  her  left  hand  was  yet  an  instrument  of  marvelous 
cunning  and  power.  One  can  fancy  how  Rome,  content  if 
she  branded  the  epithet  Roman  on  what  she  did,  might  from 
what  she  said  or  wrote  unconsciously  disdain  to  remove  the 
traditional  name  Latin. 

For  the  word  Latin  was  applied  by  the  ancient  Roman  writ- 
ers themselves  to  their  language  and  their  literature.  Before 
there  was  a  city  Rome,  there  was  a  country  Latium  in  which 
Rome  would  be  built.  The  country  Latium  contributed  the 
adjective  Latin  to  describe  the  language  and  the  literature  of 


1 8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  city  Rome.  The  designation  continues  to  this  day,  and 
it  will  no  doubt  continue  indefinitely  in  the  future.  When  we 
say  Greek,  we  violate  the  custom  of  the  Greeks,  who  never 
described  themselves  or  any  thing  pertaining  to  them  by  that 
word.  When  we  say  Latin,  we  observe  the  custom  of  the  Ro- 
mans, who  habitually  so  described  their  own  language  and  liter- 
ature. In  both  cases  we  acknowledge  the  authority  of  Rome. 
For  Greek,  as  well  as  Latin,  is  a  name  dictated  to  us  by  Roman 
example — a  curious  symbol  of  the  ascendant  power  of  Rome. 

Rome  has  a  long  history.  But  the  history  of  Rome  is  not 
so  long  as  is  the  date  of  the  existence  of  the  city.  The  city, 
that  is  to  say,  was  founded  an  unreckoned  time  before  the 
history  of  the  city  began.  But  where  history  fails,  there  is 
plenty  of  fable.  The  fable  followed  by  Virgil  recounts  how 
^neas,  escaping,  with  a  trusty  few,  from  the  flames  of  Troy, 
bore  the  beginnings  of  Rome  across  from  Asia  to  Italy.  If 
this  fable  were  fact,  and  if,  moreover,  any  body  knew  the  date 
of  the  fact,  then,  of  course,  an  origin  in  time  for  the  history  of 
Rome  could  be  fixed.  As  it  is,  for  all  the  information  to  be 
drawn  from  the  sources  that  supplied  to  Virgil  the  story  of 
yEneas,  we  are  in  blank  darkness.  According  to  a  second 
legend,  lapping  on  and  piecing  out  the  first,  Mars,  the  Roman 
god  of  war,  was  father  to  a  b'oy  named  Romulus,  who,  after  a 
miraculous  infancy  answering  to  this  his  miraculous  birth, 
grew  up  to  found  a  city  on  which  he  impressed  his  name. 
A  line  of  legendary  kings  succeeded,  closed  by  Tarquin  the 
Proud,  whoje  arrogance  and  cruelty  provoked  a  revolution, 
as  the  result  of  which  a  republic  was  established  to  supersede 
the  monarchy. 

This  republic  of  Rome,  authentic  Roman  history  when  it 
began  confronted  as  a  palpable  fact  already  existing.  This 
was  about  three  centuries  before  the  Christian  era.  The  state 
of  things  was,  at  that  period,  such  as  unmistakably  to  show 
that  a  considerable  space  of  national  life  had  preceded.  That 
national  life,  however,  had  made  no  trustworthy  record  of  itself 


The  City  and  the  People.  19 

then  anywhere  surviving;  no  record,  that  is  to  say,  existing 
in  regular  written  form  fit  to  be  called  history.  There  were 
public  works,  there  were  institutions  of  government,  there 
were  established  usages,  and  there  was  a  body  of  popular 
traditions.  The  study  of  these  various  monuments  of  pre- 
historic Roman  antiquity,  as  found  actually  still  existing,  or 
as  reported  of  to  our  generation  by  ancient  writers  of  Rome 
in  extant  Latin  literature,  has  led  late  sagacious  historical 
critics  to  certain  conjectural  conclusions  with  reference  to 
the  period  of  Roman  national  life  anterior  to  written  record, 
which  every  reader  is  entitled  to  receive  with  credit  graduated 
according  to  his  own  individual  estimate  of  their  probable 
correctness. 

There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  Rome  was  in  early  times 
a  monarchy.  It  is  quite  certain  that,  later,  a  republic  of 
Rome  existed  for  an  indefinite  period  of  time  previous  to  the 
war  with  Pyrrhus — which  war  may,  however,  be  assumed  as 
the  starting-point  of  Roman  history  worthy  to  be  so  called. 

This  war  with  Pyrrhus  broke  out,  to  be  now  a  little  exact, 
in  the  year  281  before  Christ.  Rome  had  been  gradually  ab- 
sorbing Italy  into  her  empire ;  but  there  were  in  Italy  certain 
Greek  cities  not  disposed  to  be  absorbed.  One  of  these,  a 
Lacedsemonian  colony,  Tarentum,  invited  the  bold  and  able 
king  of  E-pi'rus,  a  country  to  the  north-west  of  Greece  proper, 
to  come  over  and  lend  help  against  the  Romans.  This  king 
was  Pyrrhus,  and  Pyrrhus,  paired  with  the  famous  diplomat- 
ist Cineas,  somewhat  as,  in  our  own  time,  with  Count  Cavour 
was  paired  Victor  Immanuel,  proved  a  formidable  antag- 
onist to  the  pretensions  of  Rome.  Rome  conquered,  how- 
ever, and  within  less  than  twenty  years  was  undisputed  mis- 
tress of  Italy. 

But  now  immediately  began  the  protracted  and  deadly 
duel,  doubtful  so  long,  on  both  sides  waged  not  merely  for 
supremacy  but  for  life,  between  Rome  and  the  African  city 
of  Carthage.  Every  body  knows  the  name  of  Carthaginian 


20  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Ham-il'car,  of  Has'dru-bal,  of  Han'ni-bal  outshining  either  and 
itself  hardly  outshone  by  any  name  whatever  to  be  found  in 
rival  Roman  story  ;  of  Roman  Reg'u-lus,  with  that  high,  brae-' 
ing,  but  pathetic  legend  concerning  him,  of  patriot  devotion 
and  good  faith  with  foes  kept  at  cost  of  cruel  death ;  of  Fa'bi-us, 
the  master  of  delay,  contrasted  with  Scipio  (Sip'i-o),  admir- 
ingly pronounced  by  Milton  "  the  heighth  of  Rome,"  him  who 
carried  the  war  into  Africa,  making  that  phrase  thenceforward 
forever  a  proverb  of  aggressive  prowess— these  names,  we 
say,  every  body  knows ;  and  these  personal  names,  with  the 
local  names  of  Cannae  and  Capua,  scenes  of  memorable  battle 
and  siege,  recall,  better  than  mere  detail  of  incident  would 
do,  the  struggle  of  sixty  years  and  more  that  ended  in  the 
humiliation  of  Carthage  and  the  decisive  triumph  of  Rome. 

The  subjugation  of  Carthage  was  the  beginning  to  Rome  of 
a  career,  prolonged,  perhaps,  beyond  any  other  example  in 
history,  of  foreign  conquest  and  glory.  With  few  checks  to 
her  progress,  Rome  from  this  time  forward — that  is,  from 
about  two  hundred  years  before  Christ — rapidly  expanded 
her  dominions  in  every  direction,  until  they  embraced  almost 
literally  the  whole  then  known  world.  Macedonia  was  first, 
after  Carthage  had  yielded,  to  feel  the  hand  of  Roman  power. 
Syria  soon  shared  the  fate  of  Macedonia.  The  imperial  city 
—imperial  in  the  reach  of  her  sway,  though  still,  and  for  near 
two  hundred  years  to  remain,  republican  in  the  form  of  her 
polity — threw  out  meanwhile  her  invincible  legions  westward 
into  Spain,  and  northward  to  the  feet  of  the  Alps.  The  Alps 
themselves  proved  no  barrier  to  the  rising  impetuous  tide  of 
Roman  ambition.  Her  advance  surged  over  the  summits  of 
perpetual  snow,  and  rolled,  in  a  torrent  that  nothing  could 
stay,  into  the  fields  and  forests  of  Gaul.  Macedonia,  hissing 
at  the  heel  of  her  conqueror,  was  stamped  into  silence. 
Carthage,  tempting  her  foe  to  extremity,  was  blotted  utterly 
out  of  the  world,  by  sword  and  torch  in  the  hand  of  a  second 
Scipio  Af-ri-ca'nus. 


The  City  and  the  People. 


The  name  of  Gracchus  (Grak'kus)  calls  up  the  image  of 
outwardly  victorious  Rome  inwardly  rent  with  faction.  It 
was  the  feud  of  the  many  against  the  few,  one  party  as  self- 
ish, perhaps,  in  the  end  as  the  other,  and  both  equally  con- 
tending for  the  prize  of  power  in  the  state.  The  few  at  first 
prevailed,  and  there  followed  a  period  of  corruption  in  public 
morals  scarcely  paralleled  in  Roman  history.  Ju-gur'tha, 
usurping  king  of  Numidia,  is  for  some  time  able,  of  the  Ro- 
man generals  sent  against  him,  to  buy  such  as  he  cannot  beat, 
until  at  length  the  redoubtable  figure  of  Ma'rius  looms  on  the 
gloomy  and  inglorious  scene. 

The  election  of  Marius  to  the  consulship  was  a  triumph 
achieved,  in  their  turn,  by  the  many  over  the  few.  It  was  an 
ominous  triumph.  The  rapid  and  splendid  successes  won  by 
the  arms  of  Marius,  first  over  Jugurtha,  and  then  over  the 
Cimbrians  and  Teutons,  made  that  great  but  unprincipled 
man  omnipotent  in  Rome.  But  the  date  of  his  omnipotence 
was  short. 

The  few  soon  came  to  their  turn  again.  They,  on  their 
side,  found  in  Syl'la  a  champion  not  unmeet  to  cope  with  the 
popular  champion  Marius.  A  bloody  civil  war  ensued,  in 
which  the  aristocrats  under  Sylla  were  the 'victors.  The 
historic  picture  of  Marius,  ruined,  sitting  amid  the  ruins  of 
Carthage,  indicates  the  tragic  final  issue  of  life  to  a  man 
whose  name  and  whose  spirit,  both  bequeathed  to  a  political 
party,  survived  himself  in  a  long  entail  of  fateful  influence 
on  the  fortune  of  the  Roman  state. 

The  foreign  conquests  of  Rome  were  hardly  suspended 
during  these  dreadful  internal  conflicts.  The  brilliant  names 
of  Lu-cul'lusand  Pom'pey  now  light  up  the  sky  of  Roman  re- 
nown, while,  just  below  the  conscious  horizon,  we  feel  the 
growing  nearness  of  the  all-eclipsing  sun  of  Roman  history. 
"Great  Julius  "  is  about  to  begin  his  lordly  upward  journey 
toward  a  zenith  of  power  and  of  glory,  from  which  he  will  fall 
so  tragically,  so  suddenly,  and  so  soon.  Also,  "the  time 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


draws  near  the  birth  of  Christ."  Within  comparatively  a  few 
years  now  will  be  crowded  together  most  of  the  great  Roman 
writers  who  have  made  for  us  that  Latin  literature  to  intro- 
duce which  to  our  readers  we  are  here  giving  them  this  rapid 
sketch  of  the  history  of  Rome. 

The  story  of  Caesar's  career,  mingled  of  glory  and  of 
shame,  and  the  story  of  the  differently  glorious  and  inglori- 
ous career  of  his  nephew,  the  emperor  Au-gus'tus — these  are 
so  well  known  that  they  seem  almost  to  be  a  part  of  modern 
history.  Of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  empire,  pro- 
tracted through  many  centuries,  like  the  slow  leaning  and  re- 
luctant approach  to  the  ground  of  an  oak  that  has  sunk  its 
roots  deep,  and  anchored  them  to  the  rocks  of  the  centre — of 
this  we  shall  not  here  speak  at  all.  Strictly  classic  Latin  litera- 
ture was  already  a  finished  library  before  the  decay  of  Roman 
power  visibly  began.  The  age  of  Augustus  was — how  can  we 
better,  how  can  we  even  otherwise  adequately,  express  it  ? 
— the  Augustan  age  of  Latin  literature.  There  were  noble 
Roman  writers  after  this  time,  but  hardly  any  with  whom  our 
duty  here  will  summon  us  to  deal.  Let  us,  then,  say,  that  our 
sketch  of  the  history  of  Roman  conquest  is  done. 

The  great  race  who  accomplished  such  a  history  as  that 
which  we  thus  have  summarized  built  for  themselves  a  city 
worthy  of  the  renown  of  which  it  was  to  become  the  centre 
and  seat.  Ancient  Rome  is,  on  the  whole,  and  on  the  whole 
it  deservedly  is,  the  most  famous  city  in  the  world.  Its  site 
was  on  the  river  Tiber,  about  fifteen  miles  from  the  sea. 

When  we  here  say  "  sea,"  we  mean  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
Consider  that  nearly  all  the  international  commerce  carried 
on  through  navigation  by  the  ancients  was  confined  to  the 
waters  of  this  vast  midland  ocean,  and  observe  further  that,  of 
three  great  peninsulas  stretching  down  into  the  Mediterranean 
from  the  continent  of  Europe  on  the  north  well  toward 
the  continent  of  Africa  on  the  south,  the  boot- shaped  penin- 
sula of  Italy  is  the  central  one,  while  likewise  as  to  Italy 


The  City  and  the  People.  23 


itself  Rome  is  centrally  placed — consider,  we  say,  these 
points,  and  you  will  perceive  that  the  site  of  Rome,  un- 
attractive and  ineligible  in  itself,  was,  on  the  map  of  the 
then  known  world,  as  convenient  as  any  that  could  have  been 
selected  for  a  city  destined  to  become  a  metropolis  and  mis- 
tress of  the  nations.  Its  remove  from  the  coast  secured  it, 
in  its  feeble  beginning,  against  pirates,  while  the  navigable 
s;ream  of  the  Tiber  made  it  virtually  a  sea-board  town. 

Rome  grew  from  age  to  age,  until  finally  seven  different 
hills,  bearing  stately  Latin  names,  were  embraced  within  its 
compass.  Hence  its  sounding  designation,  the  City  of  the 
Seven  Hills.  It  was,  if  we  may  trust  tradition,  (this  was  long 
before  its  empire  had  extended  beyond  the  bounds  of  Italy,) 
sacked  and  burned  by  the  invading  Gauls.  What  precious 
monuments  perished  in  that  catastrophe,  can  only  be  con- 
jectured. But  probably  the  primeval  Rome  which  the  Gauls 
destroyed,  however  grand  in  comparison  of  its  contemporary 
rivals,  was  a  city  that,  to  our  modern  eyes,  could  we  see  it 
now  as  it  then  existed,  would  seem  but  very  moderately 
magnificent.  Even  the  splendid  capital  that  Augustus,  ac- 
cordiijg  to  the  familiar  hyperbole,  built  in  marble,  by  trans- 
formation from  the  brick  in  which  he  found  it,  lacked  some 
important  features'  that  we  now  demand  as  necessary  to  sat- 
isfy our  ideas  of  imposing  effect  in  a  city.  Augustan  Rome 
was  built,  in  considerable  part,  without  proper  streets  of  any 
sort,  the  houses  of  the  nobles  being  disposed,  as  it  were  hap- 
hazard, here  and  there,  amid  parks  and  gardens,  over  that 
portion  of  the  city's  site  which  they  occupied.  The  streets 
that  did  exist,  worthy  of  that  name,  were  continuations  of  the 
great  roads  radiating  from  Rome  in  every  direction  out  into 
the  provinces  ;  and  these  highways,  sternly  straight  without 
the  walls,  were  likely  within  to  be  winding  as  well  as  narrow. 

But  whatever  other  element  of  imposing  effect  ancient 
Rome  lacked,  it  did  not  lack  magnitude.  It  covered  a 
great  extent  of  ground,  and  covered  much  of  that  extent  with 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


dwellings  six  and  eight  stories  in  height.  The  population, 
thus  stratified  one  tier  above  another,  has  been  variously  esti- 
mated to  have  numbered  at  its  maximum  from  two  to  six 
million  souls. 

A  large  area,  inclosed  between  the  Quirinal  Hill  and  the 
river,  was  reserved  exclusively  to  public  buildings,  and  here 
there  was  an  almost  unparalleled  accumulation  of  costly, 
solid,  and  magnificent  architecture.  Temples,  buildings  de- 
voted to  business  of  state,  arches,  columns,  statues,  porticoes, 


TEMPLE   OF   JUPITER   CAPITOLINUS. 

mausoleums,  theatres,  amphitheatres,  public  baths,  palaces, 
bridges,  aqueducts,  made  the  city  to  the  unaccustomed  be- 
holder a  bewildering  and  overwhelming  maze  and  mass  of 
architectural  splendor.  Underneath  the  city  was  a  system 
of  sewers  which  provided  for  streams  so  large,  that  Pliny  felt 
warranted  in  speaking  of  Rome  as  being  navigable  under- 
ground. There  were  forums  and  campuses,  furnishing  open 


ARCH    OK   TITUS. 


TEMPLE   OF   CONCORD. 


The  City  and  the  People. 


25 


spaces,  here  and  there,  in  the  city,  for  light  and  air — the 
forums  being  meeting-places  for  business,  and  the  campuses 
being  pleasure-grounds,  like  modern  parks.  Of  these  feat- 
ures of  imperial  Rome,  many  remain,  some  remarkably  pre- 
served, others  not  less  august  in  ruin,  to  this  day. 

Simple,  erect,  severe,  austere,  sublime — 

the  Pan-the'-on,  fitly  and  memorably  so  described  in  the  fine 
adjective  verse  of  Byron,  stands  a  striking  monumental 


PANTHEON. 

symbol  at  once  of  the  Rome  that  was  and  of  the  Rome  that 
has  succeeded.  The  Pantheon,  guessed  to  have  been  orig- 
inally a  temple  dedicated  in  common  to  all  or  to  many  of  the 
gods  of  polytheism,  (whence  its  name,)  is  now  a  Roman 
Catholic  church.  The  Colise'um,  more  properly  Colosse'tmi, 
(so  named  from  its  neighborhood  to  a  colossal  statue  of 
Nero,)  a  roofless  amphitheatre  for  gladiatorial  exhibitions, 
2 


26 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


built  of  stone  and  capable  of  seating  more  than  eighty  thou- 
sand spectators,  is,  after  having  served  for  centuries  to  de- 
generate Roman  nobles  as  a  quarry  of  building  material  for 
their  palaces,  now  one  of  the  chief  spectacles  in  modern 
Rome  to  excite  the  wonder  and  awe  of  the  tourist.  Broken 
columns,  columns  half  buried  in  the  dust  of  ages,  arches 


COLOSSEUM. 


with  the  bloom  of  the  artist's  finish  long  gone  from  them, 
but  in  their  bold  outlines  unsubdued  by  time,  or  chance,  or 
change,  ruined  baths,  palaces  become  wildernesses,  aque- 
ducts striding  out  in  stone  over  the  Campagna,  (Cam-pan'ya,) 
relieved  against  the  sky,  with  that  majestic,  all-defying  gait 
of  theirs — these  mementoes  abide,  mutilated,  indeed,  and 
melancholy,  but  indestructible  like  nature  itself,  to  attest  the 


The  City  and  the  People.  27 

greatness  of  that  perished  race  whose  left-hand  by-play  we  are 
here  to  study  in  a  few  portions  of  their  surviving  literature. 

Not,  however,  at  Rome  itself,  but  remote  from  Rome,  are 
to  be  found  perhaps  the  most  eloquent  of  all  existing  memo- 
rials of  Roman  greatness.  Go  almost  anywhere  that  it  may 
chance,  in  the  Europe  of  to-day,  and  light  upon  pieces  of 
Roman  road,  imbedded  in  the  soil  as  if  they  were  stratified 
there  when  the  primeval  rocks  were  cast  and  when  the  mount- 
ains were  brought  forth  ;  light  upon  walls  of  fortification 
that  were  laid,  it  may  be,  in  far-off  Britain  soon  after  "  great 
Julius"  fell;  find  cities  there  that  took  their  rise  from  the 
chance  of  a  Roman  army's  having  fixed  its  encampment 
on  the  spot,  and  that  still,  in  their  English  names,  of  Ches- 
ter or  Dorchester,  (from  Latin,  castra,  camp,)  carry  a  remin- 
iscence of  their  origin — actually  see  these  things  with  your 
eyes,  feel  them  with  your  feet,  and  then  the  mighty  enchant- 
ment of  Roman  dominion  will  begin  to  assert  itself,  with 
something  like  its  due  influence,  over  your  sentiment  and 
your  imagination. 

Less  impressive  to^the  merely  picturesque  fancy,  but  quite 
equally  so  to  the  thoughtfully  constructive  historic  sense,  is 
the  sign-manual  of  the  Roman  character  everywhere  im- 
printed upon  the  laws  and  civil  institutions  of  Europe.  The 
Germans,  pressing  powerfully  forward  in  the  van  of  current 
national  development,  when  they  proudly,  at  Versailles,  new- 
named  King  William,  Kaiser,  so  hailed  him  emperor,  by  a 
title  dictated  to  them,  in  unconscious  anticipation,  twenty 
centuries  before  he  was  born,  by  the  stretched-out  arm  of 
posthumous  influence  proceeding  from  the  Julian  house  of 
Rome,  in  the  person  of  their  great  representative,  Caius 
Julius  Csesar. 

We  stop  here  in  our  survey  of  what  ancient  Rome  did  and 
was;  but  we  stop  without  finishing,  as  also  we  set  out  without 
beginning.  The  subject  of  Roman  history  is,  indeed,  at  both 
ends,  endless.  We  should  like  to  tell  our  readers  something 


28  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

about  the  Romans,  ethnologically;  that  is,  of  what  blood  they 
were  sprung.  But  this  nobody  really  knows.  To  most  his- 
torical students  it  has  seemed  probable  that  they  were,  like 
perhaps  every  other  one  of  the  great  races  of  mankind, 
with  the  remarkable  sole  exception  of  the  Jews,  a  highly 
mixed  and  composite  race.  This  mingled  character  has, 
however,  been  denied  to  the  Romans  by  one  of  the  most 
considerable  recent  authorities  in  Roman  history,  the  Ger- 
man historian  Mommsen.  Thus  much,  at  least,  is  now,  we 
believe,  universally  agreed,  that  the  Roman  race,  or,  speaking 
more  largely,  the  Italian,  was  a  twin  offshoot  with  the  Gre- 
cian, of  a  common  Ar'yan  or  Indo-European  stock.  This 
means  that  both  Greeks  and  Romans  were  descended  from 
a  people  that,  having  its  original  home  in  Central  Asia, 
spread  thence  outward  in  two  main  directions,  one  toward 
India  and  one  westward  over  Europe,  Beyond  this  very 
general  fact  in  Roman  ethnology,  settled  chiefly  by  compari- 
son of  languages — Greek,  Latin,  and  Sanskrit — there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  question  of  the  derivation  of  the  race  that  prob- 
ably would  interest  our  readers. 

The  study  of  ethnology,  indeed,  as  applied  to  the  particu- 
lar case  of  any  given  people,  can  never,  from  the  nature  of 
things,  yield  wholly  satisfactory  results.  Races  do  not  keep 
their  outlines  persistently  firm  and  distinct.  They  flow  into 
each  other,  in  the  revolving  kaleidoscope  of  history  shaken 
by  the  hand  of  Time,  and  form  endlessly  new  and  various 
combinations.  Only  such  great  divisions  of  blood  as,  to  il- 
lustrate, those  for  which  there  have  come  to  be  adopted  the 
designations  Aryan  and  Sem-it'ic,  remain  separate  and  distin- 
guishable. From  one  to  another  of  even  these,  there  is  more 
or  less  of  mutual  exchange  and  interpenetration.  But  with- 
in these  limits  respectively,  the  reciprocal  flux  and  reflux  of 
blood  and  blood — long  reaches  of  time  being  taken  into  the 
account — may  be  pronounced  free  and  incessant.  Migra- 
tions and  conquests  have  often,  with  violence,  suddenly 


The  City  and  the  People.  29 

shuffled  different  peoples  in  masses  into  each  other.  The 
peaceful  attritions  of  commerce  have  had  a  similar  effect,  in 
a  slower  and  less  strikingly  observable  way.  Altogether,  the 
ethnological  classification  of  the  prehistoric  Romans  is,  be- 
yond the  general  fact  concerning  them  already  indicated, 
namely,  that  they  were  Aryan,  a  matter  of  special,  rather 
than  general,  interest.  The  whole  subject  may  here  with 
propriety  be  indefinitely  postponed. 

More  interesting,  and  more  likely  to  be  fruitful,  is  the 
question  how  the  Romans  ran  the  great  career  that  they  did. 
We  have  told  that  they  conquered  and  governed  the  world ; 
of  their  method  in  doing  these  things,  we  have  thus  far  said 
not  a  word.  Their  secret  might  all  be  summed  up  in  a  single 
sentence — a  sentence  which  to  the  superficial  mind  would 
naturally  seem  a  mere  truism :  they  conquered  and  they 
governed,  by  being  conquerors  and  governors.  What  they 
did,  that  is  to  say,  is  explained  by  what  they  were.  Com- 
prehensively, intimately,  consistently,  intensely,  incessantly, 
exclusively,  they  were  conquerors  and  governors. 

In  the  two  functions  thus  indicated,  the  ancient  Romans 
absorbed  themselves  almost  completely.  There  was  very 
little  left  of  them  at  any  time  to  render  account  of  itself 
otherwise  than  so.  Romans  all  lived  for  the  state.  The 
state  was  at  once  the  unit  and  the  sum  of  Roman  society. 
The  family,  the  individual,  was  nothing,  and  the  state  was 
all.  This  was  the  theory,  and  this  was  the  practice,  of  Ro- 
man life.  The  national  idea  was  never  forgotten.  True, 
indeed,  the  individual  was  exalted  by  being  a  member  of 
an  exalted  civil  society.  But  such  seemed  not  to  be  the 
Roman  form  of  selfish  consideration.  The  ideal  Roman  was 
a  very  definite  conception.  He  was  legendary  Cur'ti-us, 
willing,  for  the  state,  to  take  his  forlorn  leap  into  darkness. 

We  are  not  representing  that  the  Roman  commonwealth 
was  an  unselfish  state.  Nothing  could  be  farther  from  the 
truth  than  this.  We  are  not  representing  that  the  individual 


30  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Roman  was,  in  all  his  relations,  an  unselfish  man.  This,  also, 
would  be  wide  of  the  truth.  But  the  relation  of  the  individual 
Roman  citizen  to  the  state — this  at  least  bore  always  an  as- 
pect of  generosity.  If  there  was  selfishness  still  at  bottom,  it 
was  an  exceedingly  specious,  a  noble,  a  magnanimous  selfish- 
ness. The  appearance  was  of  the  opposite  to  selfishness. 
You  saw  nothing  but  self-abnegation,  self-sacrifice,  devotion. 

This  meant  that  to  the  individual  citizen  every  thing  was 
to  be  dared,  and  every  thing  endured,  to  make  the  state  con- 
stantly greater  than  it  was — greater,  that  is,  not  in  moral  qual- 
ities, but  in  wealth  and  in  power.  (We  speak  now  somewhat 
largely,  disregarding  exceptions,  and  avoiding  qualifications. 
We  speak,  too,  of  Rome  as  Rome  was  before  the  imperial 
system  began.  We  exaggerate  and  idealize  a  little,  for  the 
sake  of  greater  distinctness.)  To  wealth  and  power  for  the 
state  there  was  open  one  straight  road.  That  road  was  con- 
quest. Conquest,  therefore,  was  the  one  business  of  the 
state — conquest,  in  a  twofold  sense  :  first,  subjugation  by 
arms  ;  second,  consequent  upon  subjugation,  rule  by  law. 

In  the  road  to  wealth  and  power  through  conquest,  in  this 
double  meaning  of  the  word  conquest,  there  lay  for  Rome  no 
obstacles  but  purely  material  obstacles.  Obstacles  of  the 
moral  or  sentimental  sort  did  not  exist  for  Rome.  There 
perhaps  never  was  another  nation  so  absolutely  devoid  as 
were  the  Romans  of  any  thing  like  sentiment.  Pure  cold 
blood,  always  exactly  at  zero,  was  Rome's  invariable  temper. 
Her  constancy  to  her  purpose  of  dominion  is  one  of  the  mir- 
acles of  history.  But,  in  truth,  there  was  nothing  to  weaken, 
or  in  any  wise  perturb,  that  constancy.  She  experienced 
no  state  of  mutiny  in  the  councils  of  her  heart.  Greece 
loved  art,  she  loved  eloquence,  she  loved  letters,  as  things 
desirable  and  amiable  in  themselves.  Greece  was,  too, 
capable  of  sheer  generosity.  She  had  her  enthusiasms. 
Rome  was  not  Greece.  Rome  never  felt  the  warmth  of  a 
generous  emotion  so  much  as  once  thrill  along  the  gelid 


The  City  and  the  People.  31 

courses  of  her  blood.  Rome  would  turn  upon  the  eager  and 
expectant  face  of  a  suffering  cause,  pleading  to  her  for  assist- 
ance, if  not  the  gloating  eyes  of  greed  frankly  glad  for  her 
chance,  then  simply  the  fixed  and  fixing  stony  stare  of  Me- 
du'sa.  If  Rome  did  any  thing  in  the  way  of  art,  it  was  most 
likely  by  bringing  home,  in  barbaric  triumph,  the  spoil  of 
pictures,  of  vases,  of  statues,  plundered  from  conquered  cities. 
The  enlightened  spirit  in  which  Rome  practiced  this  aesthetic 
robber-industry  of  hers  is  amusingly,  if  a  little  extravagantly, 
illustrated  by  the  story  of  the  Roman  general,  who,  in  ship- 
ping across  sea  to  Italy  a  plundered  masterpiece  of  Grecian 
art,  duly  advised  the  forwarder  that,  in  case  of  injury  done  to 
the  article,  he,  the  forwarder,  would  be  held  strictly  respon- 
sible for  furnishing  a  duplicate  of  equal  value.  Conceive 
an  honest  ship-master  duplicating,  for  instance,  a  statue  by 
Phidias  ! 

Rome  cultivated  eloquence  indeed ;  but,  at  least  before 
her  period  of  aggression  was  virtually  over,  it  was  solely  as  a 
practical  expedient  in  affairs,  not  as  an  embellishment  of  civ- 
ilized life.  Letters  she  almost  wholly  neglected  until  her 
conquest  of  the  world  was  accomplished.  Sentimental  inter- 
ests like  these  never  disputed  place  in  her  heart  with  the 
purpose  of  self-aggrandizement  by  conquest. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  supreme  and  ex- 
clusive dominion  exercised  by  the  national  purpose  to  con- 
quer, over  Roman  character  and  life.  This  purpose  \vas  a 
fire  that  burned  up  in  the  soul  of  Rome  every  thing  that 
tended  to  hinder  it,  every  thing  that  did  not  volunteer  to 
help  it.  Truth,  honor,  justice,  pity,  love — every  sentiment 
that  had  in  it  a  trace  of  unselfishness — was  withered,  was 
shriveled,  was  turned  to  ashes,  licked  by  that  fierce,  fiery, 
flickering  tongue.  It  is  comparatively  easy  to  conquer,  if 
you  are  a  conqueror — that  simply,  solely,  exclusively.  Meth- 
ods of  conquest  are  secondary  and  subordinate  to  the  purpose 
of  conquering.  The  will  is  the  way. 


32  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

The  Romans  had  the  will.  Their  will  made  them  take  the 
sword  into  their  own  hands.  They  did  not  fight  by  proxy. 
They  fought  in  person.  They  lived  chiefly  by  fighting.  The 
country  immediately  around  the  city  was  poor,  and  they  came 
by  degrees  to  depend  chiefly  on  rapine  for  subsistence.  They 
had  every  thing  to  gain,  and  little  to  lose,  by  the  chance  of  a 
battle.  This  was  at  first.  With  rare  exceptions,  the  same 
thing  remained  true  throughout  their  history.  They  almost 
always  waged  war  themselves;  they  seldom  suffered  war 
waged  upon  them  by  others.  It  was  of  no  use  to  defeat  the 
Romans  in  battle.  Defeat  experienced  by  them  only  made 
them  more  resolute  than  before.  They,  in  fact,  never  made 
peace  but  as  conquerors.  On  every  occasion,  on  almost 
every  occasion,  of  disaster  to  their  arms,  they  rose  in  spirit 
with  the  decline  of  their  fortune,  and  demanded  more,  rather 
than  less,  as  condition  of  peace.  There  was  but  one  effectual 
way  to  subdue  such  a  people,  and  that  way  was  to  annihilate 
them.  The  nation  to  annihilate  the  Romans  did  not  appear. 
Be  patient :  they  will  at  last,  with  long  suicide,  annihilate 
themselves. 

The  Roman  military  discipline  was  the  quite  natural,  the 
inevitable,  development  of  the  Roman  genius.  Its  rigor,  its 
comprehension,  its  minute  attention  to  details,  were  like  the 
action  of  the  law  of  gravitation.  You  could  count  on  it  as 
you  count  on  the  persistent  uniformity  of  nature.  It  forgot 
nothing,  made  no  exceptions,  exercised  no  pity,  felt  no  mis- 
giving. A  Roman  father,  in  command  of  an  army,  did  not 
wink  putting  his  own  son  to  death  for  gaining  a  victory  over 
the  enemy  without  waiting  for  orders.  What  wonder  ?  That 
father  had,  perhaps — who  knows? — just  before  starting  forth 
on  his  campaign,  abandoned  an  infant  sister  of  that  son  to  take 
her  chance  of  life  or  death — according  to  the  practice  of  in- 
fant exposition,  so  called,  in  use  at  Rome,  for  convenient 
riddance  of  children  not  desired,  among  a  people  well 
described,  in  the  gross,  as  "  without  natural  affection."  If 


The  City  and  the  People.  33 

a  legion,  panic-smitten,  turned  its  back  in  battle,  every  tenth 
man  of  its  number  was  first  put  to  the  sword,  and  then  the 
decimated  legion,  bleeding  and  staggering  with  its  six  hun- 
dred gaping  wounds,  was  marched  back  to  the  front  to  take 
the  brunt  of  the  next  mortal  encounter  with  the  foe. 

The  soldiers  were  worked  so  hard  in  camp  and  march, 
that  they  begged  to  fight  as  a  welcome  reprieve  from  toils 
more  intolerable  than  danger  or  than  death.  Every  night, 
on  every  march,  however  long  the  march  might  be,  and 
wherever  they  might  halt,  they  made  a  fortified  town  of  their 
encampment,  by  digging  a  trench  twelve  feet  broad  and  nine 
feet  deep  around  the  whole  circuit,  and  building  the  dirt 
thrown  out  into  an  embankment,  which  they  then  strength- 
ened with  a  paling  of  driven  stakes,  bristling  impenetrably  to- 
ward the  foe.  These  stakes,  to  the  number,  sometimes,  of 
twelve  to  each  man,  they  carried  with  them  on  the  march. 
Besides  these  stakes,  they  carried  on  their  persons,  every 
soldier,  a  spade,  a  pickaxe,  a  hatchet,  a  saw,  and  various 
other  implements,  until,  with  rations  for  fifteen  days,  their 
armor  not  reckoned,  the  total  weight  was  sixty  pounds. 
Their  armor,  offensive  and  defensive — made  always  heavier 
than  that  of  any  enemy  they  might  have  to  meet — they  did 
not  call  part  of  their  burden,  but  part  of  themselves,  like 
their  clothes.  Thus  handicapped,  they  marched  in  five 
hours  ordinarily  twenty  Roman  miles;  at  a  pinch,  twenty-four. 

We  hear  little  or  nothing  of  sickness  in  Roman  armies. 
Whether  this  signifies  that  there  was  no  sickness,  or  that 
sickness  was  a  trifle  not  worth  mentioning,  we  need  not  de- 
cide. Manifestly,  there  was  not  much  soft  fibre  left  in  Ro- 
man military  muscle  to  be  attacked  and  dissolved  by  dis- 
ease. Softness  of  heart  was  as  rare  as  softness  of  muscle. 
The  very  diversions  of  the  people  were  a  school  to  hardness 
of  heart.  The  appetite  for  blood  was  exasperated  by  the 
brutal  shows  of  the  amphitheatre.  In  one  word,  the  Roman 
man  was  made  into  a  pure  automaton  of  soldiership  and 
2* 


34  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


rulcrship.  There  came  at  length  to  be  no  organs  in  him  that 
had  not  been  transformed  and  perverted  into  these. 

Still,  perfect  soldiership  and  leadership  involve  much  be- 
sides what  is  merely  physical.  The  Romans  did  not  do  their 
work  exclusively  by  main  strength  and  with  heavy  blows. 
They  had  a  method  for  their  conquests.  They  proceeded 
according  to  a  plan.  Viewed  now  in  the  backward  perspec- 
tive of  a  finished  history,  their  policy  in  conquering  and  in 
governing  may  be  made  to  seem  the  consummation  of  fore- 
cast and  wisdom.  The  organization  of  their  armies  was  ad- 
mirable. But  it  was  always  in  process  of  becoming  more 
and  more  admirable.  Whatever  superior  feature  they  found 
in  the  military  scheme  of  other  nations,  they  did  not  hesitate 
to  transfer  and  adopt  into  their  own.  Their  enemies  did 
not  have  two  chances  to  meet  them  with  any  species  of  ar- 
mament more  formidable  than  they  themselves  possessed. 
They  let  their  foes  teach  them  to  beat  their  foes.  The 
Spaniards  and  the  Gauls  enjoyed,  each  nation  in  its  turn,  the 
honor  of  furnishing  to  the  Romans  the  model  for  their  sword. 
From  Pyrrhus,  Rome  learned  how  to  order  her  encampment ; 
from  Carthage,  how  to  build  ships.  She  imported  horses 
from  Numidia.  She  trained  a  force  of  Cretan  bowmen,  of 
Bal-e-a'ric  slingers.  Every  particular  superiority  of  every 
nation,  Rome  took  to  herself  and  made  her  own. 

With  this  comprehensive  assemblage  in  herself  of  all  par- 
ticular national  superiorities,  Rome  made  her  military  as- 
cendency overwhelming.  But  she  added  a  hardened  bodily 
strength  and  endurance,  an  exercised  agility  and  skill,  in  her 
individual  soldiers,  a  perfect  organization,  a  mobile  disposi- 
tion, of  the  mass,  that  were  nowhere  else  equaled.  Then  her 
military  roads,  solid  and  straight,  enabled  her  to  move  her 
armies  with  a  swiftness  that  continually  surprised  and  over- 
awed her  enemies.  The  terror  of  her  name  prepared  her 
most  distant  enemies  beforehand  for  defeat.  Her  sudden, 
as  it  were  supernatural,  appearance  to  their  face  dismayed 


The  City  and  the  People.  35 


them,  like  an  omen  from  the  gods.  They  were  already  half 
conquered  before  the  battle.  Other  races,  as  the  Gauls  and 
the  Germans,  were  equally  brave  with  the  Romans.  These 
fierce  semi-barbarian  warriors  would  deliver  an  onset  with 
an  enthusiasm,  a  frenzy,  of  courage.  It  was  like  the  dash  of 
a  torrent.  But  the  Romans  took  the  torrent's  dash  like  a 
rock.  Courage,  onset,  seemed  to  be  useless  against  such 
resistance.  If  the  legion  for  a  moment  was  broken,  it  could 
form  again,  not  less  adamantine  than  before,  in  the  face  of 
the  foe,  amid  the  full  fury  of  battle.  Read  the  cold-blooded 
Commentaries  of  Caesar,  and  you  are  affected  as  with  a  sense 
of  seeing  uncounted  thousands  of  human  beings  warring 
hopelessly,  desperately,  with  fate.  Caesar  drove  his  legion 
like  a  car  of  Juggernaut  over  those  Gallic  and  German 
tribes  eagerly  flinging  themselves  forward  to  bloody  death 
beneath  his  reeking  wheels.  It  is  indescribably  depressing. 
The  Commentaries  of  Cassar,  awaiting  the  attention  of  our 
readers  in  pages  to  follow,  will  supply  ample  illustration  in 
particular  instances  for  many  of  the  features  in  Rome's 
method  of  conquering,  here  described  briefly  in  terms  of  bold 
general  statement.  The  same  is  true  also  of  Sallust's  his- 
tory of  the  Jugurthine  war,  still  earlier  to  find  place  in  these 
pages. 

Do  you  wonder  what  occasion  Rome  could  find  for  mak- 
ing war  on  every  nation  under  heaven  ?  She  was  as  resource- 
ful in  picking  quarrels  as  she  was  afterward  obstinate  in  fight- 
ing her  quarrels  to  the  end.  As  soon  as  she  had  conquered  a 
people  she  made  that  people  her  ally.  Then  nobody  must 
meddle  with  her  ally.  If  there  was  a  war  going  on  anywhere 
in  the  world,  Rome's  habit  was  to  be  promptly  at  hand  for  a 
share  in  the  fray.  She  chose  her  side  with  the  weaker  of  the 
combatants.  Her  heavy  hand  in  the  scale  of  course  decided 
the  dip  of  the  balance.  The  war  finished,  she  had  con- 
quered two  nations  at  one  stroke — the  weaker  by  grappling 
it  to  herself  in  alliance,  the  stronger  by  the  help  of  the 


36  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

weaker.  For  like  reason,  Rome  never  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
appeals  for  interference  from  a  nation  at  war.  She  consti- 
tuted the  appealing  nation  at  once  her  ally,  and,  after  her 
wont,  used  it  to  make  prize  for  herself  of  its  enemy.  If 
there  was  not  a  promising  quarrel  anywhere  at  a  given  mo- 
ment in  progress,  that  circumstance  created  no  difficulty  for 
Rome.  It  was  easy  enough  any  fine  morning  to  despatch  an 
ambassador  to  some  distant  people,  commissioned  to  use 
with  them  language  so  high  that  they  would  certainly  resent 
it.  Then  an  insult  to  her  ambassador,  it  necessarily  behooved 
the  majesty  of  Rome  signally  to  avenge.  It  was  the  fable, 
enacted  in  history,  of  the  lamb  accused  of  roiling  the  cur- 
rent up-stream  for  the  wolf. 

It  would  be  long  to  tell  half  the  expedients  adopted  by 
the  senate  of  Rome  to  push  their  business  of  conquest. 
Rome  had  much  to  say  of  honor,  and  good  faith,  and  the 
inviolability  of  oaths.  She  abhorred  the  duplicity  of  Car- 
thage. "  Punic  faith  " — she  has  made  the  phrase  a  proverb 
to  all  time  of  false  dealing  between  nations.  This  style  of 
speech  on  Rome's  part — this  ostensible  disdain  of  false  deal- 
ing— you  must  be  careful,  however,  not  to  misunderstand. 
It  by  no  means  imported  that  Rome  herself  might  not  be  as 
clever  as  she  chose  to  be,  in  avoiding  the  obligation  of  con- 
ventions and  treaties.  If,  having  unhappily  covenanted  with 
Carthage  not  to  destroy  that  city,  she  found  afterward  that  to 
have  that  city  destroyed  was  necessary  to  her  profit  or  to 
her  revenge,  Rome  had  her  way  of  managing  the  matter. 
She  became  philological,  and  made  a  verbal  distinction.  She 
had  not  promised  to  spare  the  town,  but  only  the  city.  The 
city  was  the  municipality  with  the  inhabitants.  The  town 
was  the  aggregation  of  buildings.  She  destroyed  the  town, 
but  spared  the  city.  And  who  could  say  but  the  faith  of 
treaties  was  duly  observed  by  Rome  ?  Who  could  stop 
Rome  from  continuing  to  cry  shame,  with  immaculate  lips,  on 
the  perfidy  of  Carthage  ?  Did  a  Roman  general  in  extremity 


The  City  and  the  People.  37 

come  to  terms  with  a  foe  ?  The  senate  could  accept  the  ad- 
vantage but  repudiate  the  price.  Did  even  a  consul  sign  a 
treaty  that  Rome  subsequently  concluded  not  to  like?  She 
could  tear  the  treaty  in  tatters,  and  save  her  sacred  good 
faith  by  sending  the  consul  who  signed  it  a  prisoner  to  the 
enemy!  Rome  gave  Jugurtha  peace  on  condition  of  his  sur- 
rendering his  elephants,  his  horses,  his  gold,  the  deserters 
Jhat  had  come  to  him.  When  these  had  been  duly  surren- 
dered the  weakened  prince  was  next,  forsooth,  summoned  to 
surrender  himself!  Jugurtha's  St.  Helena  was  a  Roman 
dungeon.  In  his  subterranean  Longwood,  Jugurtha  would 
probably  not  have  chafed,  as  did  Napoleon,  at  mere  want  of 
due  deference  shown  him.  Jugurtha  might  thankfully  have 
eaten  the  crumbs  that  fell  from  captive  Napoleon's  table. 
Rome  starved  Jugurtha  to  death. 

This  capacity,  on  the  part  of  Rome,  to  use  the  diplomatist's 
wit  as  well  as  the  warrior's  sword,  was  associated  with  much 
thrifty  self-restraint  and  patience  exercised  by  her,  when  oc- 
casion demanded,  in  obtaining  her  end,  whether  the  end 
was  to  fat  her  greed  or  to  feast  her  revenge.  She  was 
proud,  but  hers  was  that  "  considerate  pride,"  attributed  by 
Milton  to  Satan,  which  attended  its  chance.  If  she  had  too 
many  affairs  on  hand  to  be  able  to  punish  to-day,  there  was 
always  a  to-morrow  for  Rome.  Was  she  not  the  eternal 
city  ?  Her  cold  blood  served  her  well.  She  waited  for  the 
fruit  she  desired  to  ripen  on  the  tree.  It  was  easier  to  let  the 
fruit  fall  than  to  pluck  it,  and  generally  the  flavor  was  better. 
Thus,  she  did  not  at  once  and  abruptly  reduce  every  enemy 
overcome  to  absolute  subjection.  Often  she  contented  her- 
self, for  the  present,  with  simply  making  an  enemy  conven- 
iently weak.  She  then  suffered  the  tributary  state  to  grow 
gradually  accustomed  to  obey. 

Of  course,  Rome  did  her  conquering  always  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  conquered.  Her  governing,  too,  she  did  at  the 
expense  of  the  governed.  But  we  need  hardly  make  this 


38  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

% 

distinction.  Rome's  governing  was  of  the  same  species  with 
her  conquering.  It  was  conquest  continued.  To  be  a  Roman 
province  was  only  less  a  calamity  than  to  be  a  nation  at  war 
with  Rome.  The  pillage  of  peace  was  not  quite  so  destruc- 
tive as  the  pillage  of  war.  That  was  all  the  difference.  To 
be  governed,  as  to  be  conquered,  by  Rome,  was,  to  the  un- 
happy victim,  pillage  the  same.  Indeed,  to  say  that  Rome 
made  the  nations  pay  the  expense  of  being  conquered  by 
her,  and  being  governed  by  her,  is  a  ridiculously  inadequate 
statement  of  the  fact.  The  nations  did  that  for  Rome,  and 
much  more.  They,  besides,  made  Rome,  both  the  state  at 
large  and  individual  citizens,  incredibly  rich.  Practically,  it 
was  the  sole  question  witli  the  Romans  how  much  spoil  a 
province  might,  with  good  farming,  be  made  to  yield.  The 
subject  nations  came  to  pour  not  less  than  half  the  products 
of  all  their  toil  into  the  spendthrift  and  luxurious  lap  of  their 
mistress,  Rome.  Rome  was  to  the  world  like  a  monstrous 
ulcer  that  constantly  drained  the  juices  of  its  life,  and  that 
constantly  grew  by  what  it  fed  on  to  want  more  and  more. 

Rome,  it  will  thus  be  seen,  never  herself  became  poorer, 
but  always  richer,  by  war.  In  mere  literal  fact,  war  was  to 
Rome  her  one  source  of  wealth.  All  that  enormous  ac- 
cumulation of  public  and  private  resources  which  made  Rome 
rich  and  great,  was — let  the  truth  be  nakedly  stated — it  was 
pure  plunder.  Plunder  laid  the  foundation  of  all  her  tem- 
ples, all  her  state  edifices,  all  her  public  pleasure-houses,  all 
her  palaces.  The  superstructure  of  all  these  was  plunder. 
Outside  and  inside,  they  were  garnished  with  plunder. 
Plunder  paved  her  streets,  her  highways.  Plunder  under- 
girded  the  city  with  sewers,  built  as  for  subterranean  rivers. 
Plunder  flung  bridges  across  the  Tiber.  Plunder  arched  her 
aqueducts,  and  shot  them  forth,  in  miles  and  miles  of  straight 
stone  trajectory,  high  over  the  subject  Campagna.  It  was 
plunder  that  robed  her  senators,  in  the  awed  eyes  of  Cineas, 
like  an  assembly  of  kings.  The  Roman  nobles  fared  sumpt- 


The  City  and  the  People.  39 


uously  every  day  on  plunder.  Nay,  the  very  rabble  of  the 
streets  subsisted  on  a  commons  of  plunder.  This  is  not  rhet- 
oric. It  is  mere  hard  matter  of  fact.  Rome  was  active, 
but  her  activity  was  not  the  activity  of  production.  She  did 
not  till  the  ground,  she  did  not  ply  the  loom.  That  is,  the 
productive  industry  of  Rome  was  so  little,  in  any  kind  what- 
ever, that  it  need  not  be  reckoned  at  all.  Rome's  only  in- 
dustry was  robbery.  She  exported  nothing.  She  imported 
every  thing.  Rome  was  a  mighty  metropolis  of  plunder. 
She  sucked  the  breast  of  kings. 

The  famous  Roman  Triumph  was  no  unrelated  incident 
of  the  national  life.  It  was  the  symbol,  the  representative, 
the  epitome,  of  what  Rome  was.  It  brought  into  vivid  and 
striking  demonstration  to  the  senses  the  whole  motive  and 
method  and  meaning  of  her  career.  It  was  simply  a  strong 
momentary  accentuation  of  the  habitual  tenor  of  her  con- 
duct. The  gorgeous  procession,  the  holiday  streets,  the  idly 
gaping  and  applauding  beholders,  the  captive  kings  led  in 
chains  with  their  wives  and  their  children,  the  blazoned 
names  of  conquered  nations,  the  loads  of  glittering  spoil,  the 
laureled  general  with  his  vermeil-tinctured  face,  and  that 
familiar  at  his  side  incessantly  whispering  in  his  ear,  "  Re- 
member that  thou  art  a  man  ;"  the  bands  of  musicians,  the 
harlequin  pantomime,  whose  business  it  was  to  insult  the 
vanquished;  the  thronging  soldiers,  cheering  or  chaffing  their 
leader;  the  attendant  senators — what  was  this  spectacle,  but 
Rome  herself  exhibiting  on  the  stage,  Roman  history  drama- 
tized and  enacted  ?  The  captives  sent  to  prison,  and  usually 
to  death  ;  the  multitudinous  bloody  gladiatorial  shows  that  ac- 
companied— these  were  necessary,  too;  and  now,  half-savage, 
half-civilized,  wholly  heathen,  Rome  is  fully  represented  in 
her  Triumph,  that  pride  of  the  Roman  general,  that  joy  of 
the  Roman  populace,  that  terror  and  dread  of  vanquished 
kings,  that  phantasmagoric  instruction  to  history. 

Our  readers  may  need   to  be  reminded   of  a  momentous 


40  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


fact,  not  yet  named,  but  implied  throughout  in  Roman  con- 
quest and  government.  That  fact  is,  that  in  the  end  more 
than  one  half  the  population  of  the  Roman  empire — in  other 
words,  more  than  one  half  the  population  of  the  world  then 
known — were  slaves.  Take  that  into  your  thought  and  your 
imagination.  For  every  man,  every  woman,  every  child,  liv- 
ing free,  and  master  of  self,  like  you,  there  was  a  man,  a  wom- 
an, a  child,  possessing  no  rights  whatsoever  that  any  human 
being  was  bound  to  regard.  The  Roman  master  was  lord  of 
his  slave  in  the  most  absolute  sense  of  lordship.  He  could 
not  only  whip  him  as  much  as  he  pleased,  he  could  kill  him, 
and  be  by  no  one  called  in  question  for  his  deed.  The  mis- 
ery, the  sin,  that  this  state  of  things  meant,  not  less  for  the 
ascendant  minority  than  for  the  abject  majority  of  the  human 
race,  is  a  topic  for  imagination  rather  than  for  description. 
Let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  whatever  was  outwardly  great  in 
Rome,  rested  on  a  foundation  of  rapine — rapine  that  robbed 
not  only  of  wealth,  but  of  life  ;  that  robbed  of  life,  not  only  by 
death,  quick  and  merciful,  at  the  point  of  the  sword,  but  by 
the  prolonged  death  of  life  under  the  lash  of  slavery.  There 
was  not  a  stone  laid  in  the  building  of  Rome  that  did  not 
represent  outrage  on  the  rights  of  mankind.  Rome,  from 
foundation  to  topstone,  was  a  towering  and  splendid  edifice 
of  crime.  How  could  God's  earth  help  rocking  to  topple  her 
to  her  overthrow  ?  Rome  sat  on  a  volcano  that  burned  under 
her  to  the  lowest  hell. 

The  Christian  moral  sense  instinctively  and  irresistibly 
speaks  such  language.  But  Christian  charity  no  less  feels 
bound  to  judge  righteous  judgment.  And  there  is  no  right- 
eous judgment  of  ancient  Rome  that  is  not  widely  compre- 
hensive, comparative,  and  wise. 

Over  against  the  colossal  criminality  which  tends  to  make 
Rome  morally  bankrupt  beyond  hope  before  the  conscience 
and  judgment  of  history,  there  is  justly  to  be  set  down  to  her 
credit  a  considerable  sum  of  benefits  conferred  by  her  upon 


The  City  and  the  People.  41 

mankind.  And,  to  begin  with,  there  is  this  comparative  ex- 
tenuation to  be  pleaded  in  her  behalf.  Rome  was  no  worse 
than  the  other  nations  of  antiquity,  except  as  she  was  strong- 
er, shrewder,  more  single,  more  persistent,  more  success- 
fully wicked,  than  they.  They  were  all  supremely  selfish,  not 
less  than  was  Rome.  It  happened  that  the  selfishness  of 
Rome  took  one  direction,  one  direction  only,  and  that  direc- 
tion kept  to  the  end.  She  wished  to  be  mistress  of  the 
world,  and  she  was  willing  to  pay  the  price.  This  made 
Rome  what  she  was.  She  devoured  the  nations.  True. 
But  the  nations  she  devoured  were,  when  she  devoured 
them,  all  hard  at  work  ambitiously  devouring  each  other. 
Perhaps  it  was  an  alleviation,  rather  than  an  aggravation,  to 
the  misery  of  mankind,  that  it  should  be  as  it  was.  Perhaps 
it  was  better  for  the  nations  that  they  should  all  go  together 
down  one  great  throat  stretched  wide  enough  to  pass  them 
commodiously,  than  that  they  should  spend  ages  of  time  in 
ineffectual  attempts  at  alternately  swallowing  one  another. 
There  was  one  capacious  maw  within  which  they  could  all 
be  at  peace.  Let  them  enter  there,  since  otherwise  they 
would  be  endlessly  at  war. 

This  reflection  is  an  immense  consolation  to  the  afflicted 
sentiment  of  one  who  reads  Roman  history.  These  wretched 
nations,  that  Rome  so  ruthlessly  crushes,  bruising  them 
bloodily  one  against  another,  wielded  helplessly  in  her  two 
mailed  hands — they  might  nearly  as  well  be  thus  crushed  by 
Rome  effectively,  at  once  and  for  all,  as  go  on  dashing 
themselves  together  in  ceaseless  mutual  collision  indecisively 
cruel,  cruelly  indecisive,  age  after  age,  indefinitely,  forever. 

But  there  are  offsets  as  well  as  extenuations  to  the  charges 
against  Rome.  Frightful  as  was  her  injustice  in  governing, 
Rome  yet  governed  more  beneficently  than  any  other  ancient 
nation.  She  had  a  genius  for  government.  Politics,  not 
less  than  war,  was  her  passion — if  of  passion,  a  blood  that 
ran  so  cold  as  Rome's  can  be  deemed  to  have  been  capable. 


42  Preparatory  Latin  Course   in  English. 


She  extended  the  blessing  of  stable  government,  of  an  ad- 
ministration of  law  at  least  comparatively  just  and  wise,  to 
all  the  countries  she  conquered. 

Further :  imperfect  as  was  the  civilization  of  Rome,  her 
civilization  was  yet  incomparably  better  than  the  qualified 
barbarism  that  characterized  the  greater  part  of  even  the 
best  of  the  world  besides.  And,  after  her  fashion,  she  civ- 
ilized where  she  had  subjugated.  Or  if,  in  subjugating,  she 
encountered,  as  in  Greece,  a  civilization  in  some  respects 
more  excellent  than  her  own,  she  was  great  enough  to  be 
wise  enough  to  profit  by  the  lessons  that  her  beaten  enemies 
could  teach  her.  Alas  !  the  tuition  to  evil  that  also  her  vassal 
panders  eagerly  offered — this,  she  was  neither  wise  enough 
nor  morally  sound  enough  to  reject. 

Again  :  it  is  to  be  accounted  an  immeasurable  blessing  to 
mankind  that  Rome  made  the  world  politically  one  for  the 
unhindered  universal  spread  of  Christianity.  This  we  may 
say,  not  only  speaking  as  Christians,  but  speaking  as  social 
philosophers.  Whether  one  believes  Christianity  or  not,  it  is 
at  least  undeniable  that  Christianity  creates  the  chief  differ- 
ence between  modern  civilization  and  ancient.  And  that 
this  difference  might  exist,  it  was  worth  while  for  the  iron 
embrace  of  Rome  to  crush  the  world  into  one  mass  of  em- 
pire, throughout  which  the  Gospel  could  everywhere  be 
preached. 

Briefly,  then  :  First,  the  Roman  empire  was  peace  ;  secondly, 
it  was  comparatively  good  government ;  thirdly,  it  was  civili- 
zation ;  fourthly,  it  was  the  condition  to  Christianity  of  its 
diffusion  through  the  world.  Let  Rome  have  her  due  of 
acknowledgment.  There  has  not  been  stinted  to  her  the 
full  cup  of  her  blame. 

We  grant  that  the  benefits  thus  conferred  by  Rome  on  the 
world  far  exceed  the  merits  of  Rome  in  conferring  the  ben- 
efits. But  the  optimist — that  is,  the  believer  in  eventual 
good — may  get,  for  his  faith,  more  argument  than  can  the 


The  City  and  tJte  People.  43 


pessimist — that  is,  the  believer  in  eventual  evil — for  his,  from 
the  history  of  Rome,  not,  indeed,  taken  by  itself,  but  taken 
in  conjunction  with  the  l.istory  of  Christianity.  Under  this 
wide  interpretation,  the  diffusive  and  permanent  influence 
of  Rome  for  good  to  the  world  must  be  held  to  overbalance 
her  influence  for  evil.  The  praise,  however,  is  due  rather 
to  Providence  than  to  Rome. 

Of  such  a  people,  holding  such  a  city,  and  through  such 
policies  of  conquest  and  of  government  accomplishing  such 
a  career  to  such  a  resulting  account,  in  history,  of  balanced 
praise  and  blame,  we  advance  in  the  next  chapter  to  consider 
in  summary  the  literature.  Meantime,  however,  a  few 
words  of  bibliography  respecting  Roman  history  may  be 
helpful. 

Those,  then,  of  our  friends  who  may  be  inclined  to  prose- 
cute farther  than  we  here  have  enabled  them  to  do  their 
study  of  Roman  history,  will  find  the  primer  on  that  subject 
by  Mr.  M.  Creighton,  (republished  in  this  country  by  the  Ap- 
pletons,)  a  well-conceived  and  well-executed  work,  admirably 
adapted  to  the  use  of  the  general  reader  willing  to  be  satis- 
fied with  a  greatly  reduced  but  clear  and  proportional  view 
of  the  entire  field.  Mr.  Creighton's  primer  begins  with  753 
B.  C.,  that  is,  with  the  date  assumed  for  the  founding  of 
Rome,  and  ends  with  1453  A.  D.,  that  is,  with  the  date 
marked  by  the  final  overthrow  of  the  Eastern  Empire  in  the 
fall  of  Constantinople  under  the  arms  of  the  Turks. 

Such  as  have  more  leisure  at  their  command  may  profit- 
ably peruse  Mr.  R.  F.  Leighton's  school  "  History  of  Rome," 
published  by  Clark  &  Maynard.  This  is  richly  illustrated 
with  maps  and  engravings.  It  is  written  with  enlightened 
scholarship.  Mr.  Leighton's  book  sets  out  from  753  B.  C., 
and  comes  to  its  stop  at  476  A.  D.,  the  date  commonly  as- 
signed for  the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire. 

A  larger  and  fuller  work,  prepared  for  the  general  reader, 
and  therefore  properly  less  interrupted  by  divisions  into 


44  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

paragraphs  and  by  differences  of  type,  than  the  foregoing 
meritorious  manual  of  Mr.  heighten,  is  Liddell's  "  History 
of  Rome,"  published  by  the  Harpers.  This  history,  be- 
ginning, like  the  rest,  at  753  B.  C.,  closes  at  29  B.  C.,  the 
date  of  the  establishment  of  the  empire.  Dr.  Liddell  is 
the  same  with  the  associate  author  and  compiler  of  the 
Greek  Lexicon  known  as  Liddell  and  Scott's.  His  history 
is  a  clearly-written  and  readable  work. 

Dr.  Mommsen's  more  expanded  work,  extending  now  to 
four  considerable  volumes,  issued  in  excellent  style  by  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons,  is  perhaps  the  great  work  on  Roman  history 
to  be  studied  by  such  as  desire  the  latest  and  the  best. 
This  work  may  hereafter  be  continued  by  the  author  to  in- 
clude the  period  of  the  empire  ;  but  in  its  present  state  it 
closes  with  the  fall  of  the  republic.  Mommsen's  History 
will  be  more  particularly  referred  to  in  the  course  of  the 
chapter  to  follow  this,  on  Cassar's  Commentaries. 

Merivale's  "  History  of  the  Romans  "  is  likewise  a  large 
work,  worthy  to  be  commended.  Sound  in  judgment,  trust- 
worthy in  scholarship,  it  is  well  written  without  being  re- 
markably well  written.  It  lacks  brilliant  and  striking  quali- 
ties of  style. 

Dr.  Arnold's  works  on  Roman  history  are  valuable,  but 
they  are  incomplete.  Dr.  Arnold  was  a  student  and  follower 
of  the  great  German  Niebuhr,  (nee'boor,)  who  may  be  said  to 
have  almost  created  ancient  Roman  history,  as  that  history 
has  since  his  time  (1776-1831)  been  written,  and  must  al- 
ways henceforth  continue  to  be  written. 

Gibbon's  great  work,  "  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Ro- 
man Empire,"  is  too  well  known  to  everybody  to  need  char- 
acterization, or  even  mention.  That  work,  however,  deals, 
as  its  title  indicates,  with  the  later  periods  of  Roman  his- 
tory. It  is  learned  and  exhaustive,  but  it  is  overpoweringly 
long  and  full  for  any  except  the  special  student,  or  the  gen- 
eral reader  with  ample  leisure  at  command.  There  is  an 


The  City  and  the  People.  45 

abridgment,  called  the  "  Student's  Gibbon,"  published  in  a 
single  volume. 

A  number  of  romances,  seeking  to  reproduce  the  life  of 
the  Roman  empire,  have  lately  been  written  in  German  and 
translated  into  English,  which  may  serve  a  useful  purpose  to 
the  student  of  Roman  history.  "  Quintus  Claudius,"  among 
these,  is  worthy  of  particular  mention.  Macaulay's  "Frag- 
ment of  a  Roman  Tale  "  is  not  to  be  forgotten. 

On  the  philosophy  of  Roman  history,  De  Quincey  has  a 
striking  and  suggestive  essay,  sufficiently  independent,  if  it 
should  not  even  be  called  paradoxical,  to  be  stimulating  to 
thought.  Read  also  De  Quincey 's  essay  on  the  Caesars, 
not  neglecting  his  notes.  But  the  most  enlightening  philo- 
sophical discussion  of  Roman  history  known  to  the  present 
writer  is  Montesquieu's  "  Greatness  [the  French  word  is  not 
well  translated  'Grandeur']  and  Decadence  of  the  Ro- 
mans." A  translation  of  this  work,  under  the  English  title, 
"  Grandeur  and  Decadence  of  the  Romans,"  accompanied 
with  valuable  notes,  has  recently  been  issued  by  the 
Appletons. 


III. 
THE   LITERATURE   OF    ROME. 

SUCH  of  our  readers  as  may  wish  to  know  more  of  Latin 
literature  than  we,  in  the  following  brief  sketch,  undertake  to 
tell,  can  satisfy  their  curiosity,  either  by  consulting  some  one 
or  more  of  several  accessible  works  expressly  devoted  to  this 
subject,  or  by  giving  careful  attention  to  what  the  general 
histories  of  Rome  have  to  say  about  the  literary  productions 
of  the  Roman  mind.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons  republish  in 
this  country  what  is,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the  best  manual 
of  Latin  letters,  namely,  Cruttwell's  "  History  of  Roman  Liter- 
ature." This  is  written  with  excellent  judgment  and  with  good 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


taste.  The  style  is  clear  and  readable.  It  reconciles,  with 
considerable  success,  the  popular  and  the  scholarly  traits  of 
treatment.  Harper  &  Brothers  have  lately  re-issued  a  work 
in  two  volumes  covering  much  the  same  ground.  This  is 
Simcox's  manual,  bearing  the  title,  "History  of  Latin  Liter- 
ature." Mr.  Simcox  begins,  as  Mr.  Cruttwell  does,  at  the  be- 
ginning, but  he  comes  down  to  a  later  date  than  Mr.  Crutt- 
well. Marcus  Au-re'li-us  (121-180  A.  D.)  is  the  hither  term 
of  Mr.  Cruttwell;  while  Mr.  Simcox  continues  his  account 
to  Bo-e'thi-us,  (470-525.)  We  give  the  preference  to  Mr. 
Cruttwell's  book  for  the  use  of  our  readers. 

As  we  have  already  intimated,  the  period  during  which 
classic  Latin  literature,  strictly  so-called,  came  into  existence 
was,  in  comparison  to  the  whole  life  of  the  Roman  people, 
very  short.  The  epithet  classic  is  somewhat  arbitrarily  ap- 
plied to  the  literature  produced  at  Rome  during  a  certain 
limited  time,  variously  reckoned  by  various  authorities,  but 
fairly  enough  to  be  considered  as  extending  from  about 
80  B.  C.  to  A.  D.  108,  and  as  thus  covering  one  hundred  and 
eighty-eight  years,  a  little  less  than  the  space  of  six  generations. 
Cicero  begins  and  Tacitus  (Tass'i-tus)  ends  this  period.  All 
before  is  ante-classic ;  all  after,  post-classic.  Cicero,  or  some 
might  say  Caesar,  may  be  taken  as  marking  the  point  of  high- 
est purity  and  perfection  in  Latin  diction  and  style.  Liter- 
ature, with  the  Romans,  was  both  late  to  spring  into  life,  and 
early  to  fall  into  decay.  The  names  of  Roman  writers 
familiar  now  to  the  popular  ear  are  few  in  number,  and  they 
are  clustered  together  in  time,  like  the  stars  of  a  constellation 
in  the  sky. 

Liv-i-us  An-dro-ni'cus  was  a  writer  of  tragedy.  He  flour- 
ished about  two  hundred  and  forty  years  before  Christ.  But 
Livius  Andronicus  is  a  name,  nothing  more,  and  as  merely  a 
name,  is  probably,  to  most  of  our  readers,  unknown.  We 
write  the  name  here,  not  to  say  any  thing  more  about  the 
bearer  of  the  name,  than  that  Livius  Andronicus  may  be 


The  Literature  of  Rome.  47 

regarded  as  the  beginner  of  Latin  literature.  This  Livy,  by 
the  way,  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  Livy  the  historian, 
who  will  come  two  centuries  later,  and  be  a  very  different 
man.  "Andronicus  "  alone,  a  Greek  appellation,  was  the 
earlier  writer's  original  name.  He  was  an  Italian  Greek,  made 
prisoner  at  the  Roman  capture  of  Tarentum — prisoner  and, 
by  natural  consequence,  slave.  When,  afterward,  he  was  set 
free,  he  adopted,  according  to  custom,  the  name  of  his  mas- 
ter, Livius.  The  mention  of  Tarentum  captured  will  remind 
our  readers  of  Pyrrhus,  vainly  summoned  by  the  Tarentines 
to  help  them  against  Rome.  It  was  the  war  between  Pyr- 
rhus and  Rome,  you  remember,  that  we  took  as  the  point  of 
commencement  for  strictly  authentic  Roman  history.  The 
time  was  about  the  middle  of  the  third  century  before  Christ. 
It  is  historically  significant  that  Roman  literature  should 
have  been  begun  by  a  Greek.  Rome  conquered  Greece,  but 
Greece  turned  about  and  made  captive  her  conqueror.  But 
we  might  have  got  our  epigram  by  quoting  the  Roman  poet 
Horace  himself,  who  says,  "  Captive  Greece  took  captive  her 
rude  conqueror."  What  Livius  Andronicus  wrote  in  Latin 
was  no  doubt  mainly  translation  from  the  writer's  native 
Greek.  Of  his  indifferent  verse  a  few  fragments  only  re- 
main. 

Nos'vi-us  is  another  merename  in  Latin  literature — this,  like- 
wise, a  name  now,  perhaps,  for  the  first  time  meeting  the  eyes 
of  most  of  the  readers  of  this  volume.  Against  the  hellen- 
izing  tendency  introduced  by  Livius,  Ncevius,  himself  also, 
like  Livius,  debtor  to  Hellenic  originals,  nevertheless  made  a 
manly,  though  a  vain,  stand  for  the  native  Roman  spirit  in 
Roman  literature.  He  wrote  a  sort  of  epic  on  the  first  Punic 
war,  esteemed  by  scholars  one  of  the  chief  lost  things  in 
Latin  literature.  It  contained  notices  of  previous  Roman 
history,  which  nothing  survives  to  replace.  Macaulay,  in  his 
Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  has  exercised  his  imagination  to  con- 
struct what  it  may  be  supposed  that  the  epic  of  Ncevius,  had 


48  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

that  poem  escaped  the  chances  of  time,  would  have  supplied 
to  the  Englishman's  hand.  Perhaps,  if  the  truth  were  known, 
we  English-speakers  gain,  rather  than  lose,  by  exchanging 
tradition  for  fancy,  Naevius  for  Macaulay.  Cicero,  however, 
who  had  a  capacity  for  appreciating,  as  great  as  was  his 
capacity  for  creating,  expresses  strongly  the  delight  he  ex- 
perienced in  reading  the  lost  epic  of  Nnsvius. 

The  next  great  name  in  Latin  literature  is  still  to  us  little 
more  than  a  name.  It  is  En'ni-us.  Ennius  is  praised  by 
Cicero,  by  Lu-cre'ti-us  ;  Virgil  does  not  praise  him,  but  he 
copies  him  ;  while  Horace,  too,  does  not  altogether  disdain 
to  acknowledge  merit  in  his  verse.  Ennius  was  a  thorough- 
going hellenizer.  His  influence  and  example  decisively 
fixed  the  form  of  the  Latin  poetry,  and  so,  we  may  say,  of 
the  Latin  language.  It  long  remained  a  part  of  the  conserva- 
tism and  pride  of  the  Roman  people,  to  keep  alive  portions, 
at  least,  of  the  poetry  of  Ennius.  It  is  tantalizing  to  think 
that  Ennius  was  lost  to  the  world  only  so  long  ago  as  the 
thirteenth  century. 

We  may  skip  other  names  after  Ennius,  until  we  come  to 
names  as  familiar  as  those  of  Plau'tus  and  Ter'ence.  These 
two  were  the  great  Roman  writers  of  comedy.  Naevius  had 
done  something  in  the  line  of  the  comic  drama,  but  the  truly 
indigenous  literary  product,  like  that  which  Naevius  at- 
tempted to  furnish,  seemed  somehow  never  to  thrive  in 
Rome.  Plautus  and  Terence  won  their  triumphs  by  boldly 
importing  their  intellectual  wares  from  Greece.  Of  Terence, 
Julius  Ccesar,  in  a  celebrated  epigram,  spoke  slightingly,  as 
but  "  a  half-Menander."  The  epigrammatist  named  thus  the 
Greek  (Menan'der)  from  whom  the  Roman,  if  Roman  indeed 
he  is  to  be  called — for  Terence  was  a  native  of  Carthage — 
purveyed  his  comedies.  These  two  writers,  Plautus  and 
Terence,  will  furnish  their  full  share  of  what  our  readers  may 
promise  themselves  most  to  enjoy,  in  the  companion  volume 
to  the  present,  namely,  that  devoted  to  representing  the 


The  Literature  of  Rome.  49 

college  or  university  course  in  Latin.  The  two  were  partly 
contemporary,  but  Plautus  was  Terence's  senior.  The  senior 
was,  of  the  two,  the  coarser,  but  so  the  more  characteristic- 
ally Roman,  the  more  original,  and,  perhaps,  the  abler.  Ter- 
ence, however,  died  when  hardly  more  than  a  youth,  so  that 
what  we  have  from  his  hand  was  but  the  first-fruits  of  his 
early-ripe  genius.  Plautus  lived,  and,  on  the  whole,  pros- 
pered, to  a  good  old  age.  Both  these  dramatists  reflected  a 
civilization  that  was  full  of  iniquity.  Their  reflections,  of 
course,  are  tainted  accordingly.  Roman  life  and  manners, 
beginning,  through  superfluous  wealth  and,  we  grieve  to  say 
it,  through  corrupting  influence  and  example  imported  from 
Greece,  to  show  deterioration  from  their  ancient  simplicity 
and  comparative  virtue,  are  vividly  portrayed  in  the  comedies 
of  Plautus  and  of  Terence.  Our  readers  will  relish  the  ex- 
tracts in  store  for  them  from  these  writers.  The  relish,  how- 
ever, will  be  pungent  with  pain  as  well  as  with  pleasure. 
The  lines  themselves  that  the  authors  wrote  will  amuse  you, 
but  you  will  be  saddened  with  what  you  read  between  the 
lines.  You  may  safely  reckon,  while  tasting  this  mingled 
relish,  on  getting  at  the  same  time  a  better  idea  of  what 
Roman  civilization  really  was,  than  many  a  laborious  page  of 
history  might  yield,  duly  studied  under  a  sense,  on  your  part, 
of  so  much  necessary  work  conscientiously  perfoimed. 

Another  important  source  of  knowledge  respecting  the 
cvery-day  life  and  morality  of  the  ancient  Romans,  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Satires  which  their  own  writers  produced.  The 
satire  may  be  said  to  be  a  form  of  composition  in  verse  orig- 
inal with  Rome.  In  satire,  more  naturally  by  far  than  in 
comedy,  the  Roman  genius  could  unbend  from  its  habitual 
and  characteristic  severity.  Perhaps  Roman  satire  was 
hardly,  to  the  Romans,  an  unbending  from  severity ;  say, 
rather,  it  was  with  them  a  way  of  giving  loose  to  severity. 
At  all  events,  satire  is  a  kind  of  verse  in  which  the  Romans 
distance  all  competitors. 


50  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in   English. 


Verse,  but  not  poetry,  observe,  we  call  the  Roman  satire. 
Indeed,  the  wit,  the  scorn,  the  ridicule,  which,  in  any  lan- 
guage, make  the  life  of  the  satire,  are  hardly  compatible 
with  poetry.  It  was  by  no  means,  therefore,  because  the 
satire  is  of  its  own  nature  poetical,  that,  among  the  Romans, 
the  satire  chose  for  itself  verse  as  its  form  of  expression.  It 
was  rather  for  the  curious  reason  that,  when  satire  began, 
verse  was  a  literary  vehicle  of  thought  already  prepared  to 
the  hand  of  the  satirical  writer,  while  prose  had  yet  to  be  in- 
vented. Curious  we  call  it,  and  our  readers  will  agree  with 
us  in  feeling  it  to  be  curious,  that  so  difficult  a  form  of  com- 
position as  verse  should  precede  prose  in  the  first  develop- 
ment of  a  national  literature.  This,  however,  seems  to  be  a 
general  fact  in  literary  history.  It  has  even  been  suggested 
that  you  may  measure  the  advance  of  a  people  in  the  liter- 
ary art  by  the  degree  to  which  prose  has  secured  for  itself 
among  them  an  expansion  of  its  sphere.  Let  us  trust,  we 
that  love  poetry,  that  poetry  is  not,  one  day,  in  the  triumph- 
ant perfection  of  literature,  to  be  quite  swallowed  up.  By 
the  way,  is  there,  in  this  line  of  thought,  a  light  thrown  on 
Coleridge's  noteworthy  sentence  of  exclamation  at  what  he 
calls  the  "  wonderfulness  of  prose  "  ? 

The  spirit  of  satire  is  very  pervasive  throughout  Latin  lit- 
erature. Cato  the  Censor  was  a  great  satirist  in  his  writing, 
but  especially  in  his  speech.  That  tongue  of  his  was  as  a 
scourge  for  the  chastisement  of  the  public.  Lucretius,  poetic 
interpreter  to  the  Romans  of  philosophic  Epicurus  the 
Greek,  is  highly  satirical.  Seneca  was  a  moralist,  but  he 
moralized  satirically.  As  for  Tacitus,  our  readers  in  due 
time  shall  see  for  themselves  how  the  ink  with  which  that 
great  historian  wrote  was  embittered  with  the  gall  of  the 
satirist.  Of  the  classic  Roman  satire  Lu-cil'ius  (148-103  B.C.) 
was  the  creator.  The  learned  world  has  suffered  a  great  loss 
in  losing  Lucilius.  He  satirized,  not  to  vent  his  own  spleen, 
but  to  chastise  the  vices  of  society,  and  thus  to  help  give 


The  Literature  of  JRome.  5 1 

virtue  its  chance  among  men.  But  the  great  Roman  mas- 
ters of  satire  are  Horace  and  Ju'ven-al.  These  two  writers 
not  only  wrote  nobly  themselves,  but  they  have  been  the 
cause  of  much  noble  writing,  done  long  since  their  day,  by 
others,  both  in  French  and  in  English.  French  Boileau  and 
English  Dryden  and  Pope,  especially,  with  Johnson  too,  have 
transfused  the  essential  spirit  of  Horace  and  Juvenal  into 
brilliant  imitative  satires,  dealing  with  the  follies  and  vices  of 
modern  contemporary  life.  For  some  specimens  of  the  sa- 
tirical work  of  the  Englishmen  named — as  being,  perhaps,  for 
our  purpose  in  this  series  of  volumes,  better  than  exclusive 
mere  translation  would  be — we  shall  hereafter  try  to  find 
room.  That  will  be  when  we  come  to  representing  Horace 
and  Juvenal,  in  the  volume  on  Latin  literature  to  follow  this. 
Our  readers  may  prepare  their  palates  for  a  strong  sapor  of 
spice. 

To  Cato,  famous  always  and  everywhere  as  Cato  the 
Censor,  may  be  attributed  the  merit  of  being  the  founder  or 
former  of  Latin  prose.  For  this  service  to  Latin  literature, 
Cato's  merit  is  as  distinctive  and  as  indisputable,  as  is  the 
merit  of  Ennius  for  a  corresponding  influence  exercised  in 
fixing  the  mold  of  Latin  verse.  But  while  Ennius  hellen- 
ized,  that  is,  followed  Greek  models,  Cato,  in  principle  and 
in  practice,  was  stanchly  Roman.  There  is  something  whim- 
sical in  the  fact  that  one  of  the  great  creators  of  Roman 
literature  should  have  been,  as  Cato  undoubtedly  was,  quite 
sincerely  and  cordially  a  despiser  of  literature.  Cato  wrote 
to  decry  writing,  as  Carlyle  lately  deafened  us  all  to  recom- 
mend silence.  Unhappily,  Cato  is  now  mainly  but  a  tradi- 
tion in  Latin  letters.  We  have  left  from  his  hand  nothing 
entire,  except  a  treatise  on  farming,  and  even  this  is  edited 
somewhat.  Cato  wrote  an  important  historical  work,  the 
loss  of  which  leaves  an  irreparable  breach  in  the  continuity 
of  primitive  Roman  story.  Cato  is  also  named  for  praise 
by  Cicero  as  the  first  Roman  orator  worthy  of  that  title. 


52  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


Oratory,  from  early  times  down  to  the  establishment  of  the 
empire — true  oratory  the  empire  extinguished — was  a  favor- 
ite form  of  intellectual  activity  among  the  Romans.  It  has 
happened,  however,  and  this  from  the  nature  of  things,  that 
of  the  immense  volume  of  an  eloquence  hardly  perhaps,  in 
the  aggregate,  equaled  by  that  of  any  other  nation,  ancient 
or  modern,  comparatively  little  remains  to  justify  the  fame 
which  Roman  oratory  traditionally  enjoys.  The  orator's 
triumph,  as  it  is  the  most  intense,  is  likewise  the  most  mo- 
mentary of  all  intellectual  victories.  Cicero,  among  Romans, 
reigns  alone,  in  glorious  companionship  with  Demosthenes 
among  Greeks,  as  one  of  the  two  undisputedly  greatest  mas- 
ters of  human  speech  that  have  ever  appeared  on  the  planet. 
^Eschines  (Es'ki-neez)  survives,  in  equivocal  renown,  as  foil 
to  Demosthenes — Hortensius  enjoying  a  similar  privilege 
of  continued  remembrance  in  connection  with  Cicero. 
While  of  ^Eschines,  however,  we  still  have  the  really  brill- 
iant speech  which  provoked  from  his  victorious  rival  that 
"bright  consummate  flower"  of  eloquence,  the  Oration  on 
the  Crown,  nothing  remains  of  Hortensius  but  the  splendid 
tradition  of  his  fame.  For  other  Roman  orators,  there  are  the 
brothers  Gracchi,  (Grak'ki,)  Crassus,  and  that  universal  man, 
not  less  capable  of  great  words  than  of  great  deeds,  Julius 
Caesar.  Nor  must  we  forget  Mark  Antony.  This  orator's 
masterpiece,  the  funeral  discourse  on  murdered  Caesar,  per- 
ished long  ago,  but  you  may  still  study  it  in  the  form  in 
which  the  creative  imagination  and  easy  omnipotence  in  ex- 
pression of  Shakespeare  have  perhaps  more  than  restored  it. 
Read  Antony  in  the  tragedy  of  "Julius  Caesar,"  and,  if  you  are 
an  orator,  hope  that  what  you  utter  in  the  supreme  moment 
of  your  career  may  die,  to  enjoy  a  like  resurrection.  The 
names  that  we  have  last  mentioned,  added  to  those  of  Cato, 
Cicero,  Hortensius,  sufficiently  suggest  the  roll-call  of  illus- 
trious orators  that  Rome,  before  eloquence  died  with  liberty  in 
Rome,  could  boast,  in  not  unsuccessful  rivalship  with  Greece. 


The  Literature  of  Rome.  53 


Cato,  as  founder  of  history  for  Rome,  had  a  following  not 
less  distinguished  than  that  which,  as  you  have  seen,  he  drew 
after  him  as  founder  of  oratory.  When  \ve  have  mentioned, 
first,  Crcsar,  that  name  appearing  so  often,  and  always  among 
the  foremost,  when  you  recall  the  glories  of  Rome  in  differ- 
ent spheres  of  achievement  ;  next,  Sallust,  emulating  but 
hardly  rivaling  Thucydides  in  force  and  in  point ;  then 
Livy,  of  the  "  pictured  page,"  with  his  lost  books,  perhaps 
the  chief  theme  of  hopeless  deploring  for  the  lovers  of 
classical  literature  and  the  students  of  Roman  antiquity ; 
and,  fourth,  Tacitus,  grave,  severe,  pathetic — but  loftily,  in- 
dignantly pathetic,  with  pathos  made  bitter  and  virile  by 
sarcasm- — -illustrating  in  his  practice  that  definition  of  history 
which  calls  it  philosophy  teaching  by  example,  and  so  plac- 
ing himself  chronologically  second  in  the  line,  in  which 
Thucydides  stands  first,  of  philosophical  historians — when, 
we  say,  we  have  mentioned  these  four  names,  we  have  not, 
indeed,  exhausted,  but  we  have  adequately  suggested,  the 
list  of  Roman  historical  writers.  Cornelius  Nepos — and  the 
same  is  true  of  Suetonius— was  a  biographer  rather  than  a 
historian.  Suetonius  deserves  higher  regard;  but  the  pre- 
tensions of  Xepos,  as  a  man  of  letters,  are  humble,  and  what 
survives  of  his  work  is  rather  tame  reading. 

It  was  reserved  for  the  age  cf  Augustus  to  produce  the 
great  epic  of  Rome,  the  /Ene'id  of  Virgil.  This  poem,  like 
the  Georgics  of  the  same  author,  seems  to  have  had  a  patri- 
otic inspiration,  inspiration  genuinely  the  poet's,  though,  per- 
haps, originally  communicated  from  no  less  august  a  source 
than  the  Roman  emperor  himself.  It  was  not  simply  ad- 
dressed to  the  national  feeling  of  Rome,  for  the  purpose  of 
flattering  that  feeling  to  the  gain  of  the  poet.  It  was  de- 
signed to  create  and  excite  national  feeling,  or  rather  to  re- 
vive and  restore  the  national  feeling  which  the  long  civil  wars 
had  done  so  much  to  extinguish.  Whatever  the  merits  of  the 
poem,  the  ^Eneid  has  had  a  fortune  of  lame  and  of  influence 


54  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

that  pairs  it,  in  unchallenged  pre-eminence,  with  the  Iliad 
of  Homer.  With  Virgil  was  matched  and  contrasted,  in  a 
life-long  friendship  equally  honorable  to  both,  a  very  dif- 
ferent poet — by  eminence  the  Roman  poet  of  society  and 
manners — Horace,  of  a  fame  fulfilling  his  own  celebrated 
boast  and  prediction  concerning  himself:  "  I  have  reared  for 
myself  a  monument  more  enduring  than  brass."  Horace  has 
a  peculiar  persisting  modernness  of  manner  that  keeps  him 
perhaps  the  most  read  and  the  most  quoted  of  all  ancient 
poets. 

In  connection  with  Virgil  and  Horace,  let  us  make  mention, 
in  one  word,  of  a  man  who,  producing,  indeed,  no  valuable 
literature  himself,  became,  nevertheless,  alike  by  his  initiative, 
by  his  taste,  and  by  his  munificence,  to  such  an  extent  the 
cause  to  others  of  their  producing  of  literature,  that  his  very 
name  is  now  an  immortal  synonym  for  enlightened  and  gener- 
ous patronage  of  culture.  If  you  wish  to  dignify  by  a  name 
some  wise  and  liberal  encourager  of  intellectual  activity  you 
call  him  a  Maj-ce'nas.  Augustus  himself  surpassed  his  minis- 
ter Maecenas  in  patronizing  genius,  only  as  the  sovereign  may 
always  surpass  the  subject.  Ovid,  however,  less  happy  than 
Virgil  and  Horace,  felt  the  weight  of  imperial  displeasure. 
Banished  from  Rome  by  Augustus,  he  became  as  famous  to 
all  time  for  his  unmanly  tears  in  exile,  as  he  had  been  before 
for  his  much-appreciated  verse. 

Ovid  ill  Pontus,  puling  for  his  Rome, 

is  the  merciless  line  in  which  Mr.  Lowell,  in  his  "  Cathedral," 
pillories  him  for  the  contempt  of  mankind. 

We  must  not  close  this  rapid  and  summary  survey  of  Latin 
literature  without  remarking  that  it  was  proper  of  the  Roman 
genius  to  produce  a  copious  literature  about  literature,  in  the 
form  of  grammatical,  rhetorical,  and  critical  treatises.  Be- 
sides Varro,  a  luminous  as  well  as  voluminous  author,  much 
lauded  by  Cicero,  whose  works,  however  valuable  for  matter, 


The  Literature  of  Rome.  rr 

lacked  every  charm  of  manner,  we  name  here  only  Quin-til'i- 
an,  the  writer  on  rhetoric— who,  perhaps,  from  his  store  will 
supply  us  with  material  for  enriching  the  variety  and  in- 
structiveness  of  future  pages  of  the  present  series  of  vol- 
umes. 

Our  readers  can  easily  see  that,  with  a  magazine  of  re- 
sources accessible,  so  large  and  so  various  as  is  the  literature 
thus  imperfectly  described,  it  will  be  next  to  impossible  not 
to  draw  for  our  use  what,  properly  presented,  will  make  up  a 
full  and  an  appetizing  intellectual  feast. 

Now  forward,  with  but  one  more  brief  stage  of  delay,  to 
that  part  of  the  proof  which  belongs  to  this  volume. 


IV. 
A  WORD  OR  TWO   OF   ADVICE. 

IN  concluding  the  previous  chapter  our  impulse  was  to 
begin  at  once  here  with  something  highly  interesting.  This, 
in  our  next  chapter,  we  shall  show  that  we  could  very  easily 
have  done.  On  the  whole,  however,  we  decide  to  keep  that 
impulse  in  check,  until  we  shall  first  have  given  certain  of 
our  readers  some  good  advice  about  their  proper  course  of 
proceeding. 

The  advice  to  be  submitted  is,  perhaps,  hardly  more  than 
suggestion  ;  for  no  one  need  follow  it  who  is  not  that  way  in-  \ 
clined.  In  fact,  those  readers  with  whom  good  advice  is  a 
favorite  aversion  may,  if  they  like,  just  drop  the  thread  right 
here,  to  take  it  up  again  unbroken  at  the  beginning  of  the 
next  chapter.  To  these  last  readers  nothing  probably  will 
be  lost  by  their  skipping  of  a  few  pages  here,  except  barely 
the  good  advice  itself  contained  therein — small  loss  that, 
since  they  would  not  in  any  case  have  been  apt,  against  their 
liking,  to  follow  the  good  advice,  and  so  get  the  resultant 
practical  benefit  aimed  at  in  their  behalf.  No  offense,  we  trust, 


56  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

even  to  these  readers — for  we  quite  understand  that  our  office 
here  is  to  make  Latin  literature  easy,  and  not  in  general  to 
give  good  advice. 

We  speak,  then,  for  the  moment,  to  such  among  our  readers 
as,  not  being  classically  educated,  and  not  expecting  to  be, 
would,  nevertheless,  like,  to  some  small  degree,  to  get  the 
secret  of  the  Latin  language  itself,  in  addition  to  the  Latin 
literature — so  far,  at  least,  that  when,  for  example,  they 
chance  in  reading  aloud  to  come  upon  a  Latin  word  or 
phrase  used  by  an  English  writer,  they  need  not  stumble 
and  say  Jerusalem  ;  or  when,  for  another  example,  to 
tongue's  tip  springs  some  pat  quotation  in  Latin,  they  need 
not  hold  the  volunteer  back,  for  fear  they  shall  forsooth 
commit  a  dreadful  solecism  by  missing  unawares  a  mysterious 
concord  of  gender,  number,  or  case.  Some  readers,  too, 
there  will  be — parents,  perhaps,  or  older  brothers  or  sisters — 
who,  to  the  reasons  already  suggested  for  liking  to  know  a 
little  Latin,  will  add  also  the  wish  to  keep  in  sympathetic 
communication  with  fortunate  kinsman  or  kinswoman  enjoy- 
ing the  privilege  of  education  at  academy  or  college.  To  all 
readers,  whatever  their  private  motive,  who  would  gladly  fur- 
nish themselves  with  a  modest,  but  serviceable,  smatter  of 
Latin,  we  take  great  pleasure  in  saying,  Your  wish  can  be 
gratified,  and  that  without  any  very  formidable  cost  of  time 
or  pains  on  your  part.  You  have  no  new  alphabet  to  learn. 
A  Latin  page  does  not,  like  a  Greek,  bristle  to  you  with 
Procul,  procul,  Off,  off,  multitudinously  horrid  in  the  very 
aspect  of  the  letters  !  The  words  look  familiar  and  inviting. 
Some  of  them  carry  their  meaning  on  their  face. 

Very  well;  go  at  it,  nothing  doubting.  Take  up  any  Latin 
grammar  at  hazard,  or  first  book  in  Latin.  Read  it  unafraid. 
Skip  paragraphs,  pages  even,  that  look  too  learned  and  dry, 
and  by  no  means  accuse  yourselves  of  being  superficial  for 
doing  so.  Rather  secretly  take  pleasure  in  thinking  that 
you  know  how  to  "  refuse  the  prickle,  and  assume  the  rose." 


A   Word  or   Two  of  Advice.  57 

Get  yourself  thus  easily  led  up  to  the  declensions,  so-called, 
of  the  Latin  nouns.  Fall  afoul  of  these,  and  master  them. 
It  is  really  not  a  very  serious  affair.  You  can  make  sing- 
song of  the  task,  if  you  like,  and  chant  it  as  accompaniment 
to  any  necessary  other  employment  you  may  happen  to  have 
in  hand — any  employment,  we  mean,  that  will  leave  your 
mind  a  little  at  leisure  to  be,  as  Mrs.  Browning  cheerfully 
puts  it,  "singing  at  a  work  apart."  Well,  in  the  same  way 
take  a  turn  at  the  adjectives  and  pronouns,  which,  as  you 
will  with  pleasure  observe,  have  a  trick  of  following  the 
phases  of  the  nouns,  making  it  thus  quite  easy  for  you  to 
master  them.  Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  and 
storm  the  four  conjugations  of  the  Latin  verbs.  There,  that 
is  all — only,  of  course,  you  can,  you  know,  if  you  find  you 
rather  like  Latin  grammar,  look,  as  much  as  pleases  you,  at 
the  rules  of  syntax.  But  you  will  now  have  learned  enough 
Latin  to  serve  several  useful  ends. 

The  mere  guidance  of  your  ear,  thus  grown  familiar  with 
the  forms  of  the  nouns,  pronouns,  and  adjectives,  shifting 
rhythmically  down  through  their  several  cases  and  numbers, 
will  save  you  from  the  embarrassment  of  making,  for  instance, 
such  a  ludicrous  blunder  as  that  of  the  lady  who  spoke  to  a 
friend  of  ours  about  taking  a  plunge  in  medias  rebus — when 
she  meant,  with  easy  command  of  classic  quotation,  to  mus- 
ter in  that  veteran  conscript,  our  old  acquaintance,  in  medias 
res,  who,  perhaps  some  readers  will  remember,  graced,  with 
well-accustomed  step,  the  ranks  of  our  own  array  in  the  vol- 
ume on  Greek  literature  preceding  this.  Lexicon,  not  gram- 
mar, was  wanting  to  the  traveler  who,  tired  of  sea,  declared 
himself  glad  to  set  foot  once  more  on  terra  cotta.  (If,  now, 
that  traveler  had  been  but  a  homesick  Neapolitan  gentle- 
man, landing  nigh  the  base  of  Mount  Vesuvius  with  its 
burnt  volcanic  soil ! — terra  cotta,  that  is,  baked  or  cooked 
earth — would  not  have  been  in  him  so  very  bad  a  term  to 

express  his  sentiment  of  whimsical  pathetic   gladness  in  the 
3* 


58  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

"home  return."  Alas!  we  fear  the  traveler  was  a  hapless 
American,  born  too  soon  to  have  had  the  benefit  of  these 
books;  though  even  to  such  a  traveler  a  timely  recollection 
of  his  mother  tongue  should  have  served  to  point  out  that 
terra  fir  ma  was  the  natural  antithesis  desired  to  the  tumbling 
and  wallowing  sea.  It  is  fair,  finally,  to  advise  our  readers 
that  terra  cotta  is  not  true  Latin  at  all,  but  Italian,  "  that  soft 
bastard  Latin,"  to  use  Byron's  affectionate  descriptive  phrase.) 

A  very  ingenious  device  for  acquiring  something  like  ver- 
nacular familiarity  with  a  foreign  language,  through  much 
practice  in  repetition  of  words  and  phrases,  is  that  of  Sauveur. 
A  spirited  movement  toward  the  general  introduction  of  an 
improved  conversational  method  in  the  study  of  Latin  has  re- 
cently been  started  by  Professor  E.  S.  Shumway,  of  the  State 
Normal  School  at  Potsdam,  in  New  York.  This  enlightened 
and  enterprising  classical  teacher  publishes  an  admirable 
little  monthly  magazine,  entitled  "  Latine,"  printed  almost 
wholly  in  Latin,  which,  with  much  interesting  and  instruct- 
ive matter  besides,  furnishes,  from  number  to  number,  co- 
pious and  well-prepared  specimen  exercises  in  exemplification 
of  his  method. 

Some  readers  of  this  chapter  may  be  incited  by  what  we 
say  to  prosecute,  still  farther  than  we  have  now  suggested, 
their  study  of  Latin.  To  any  such  reader  we  would  say,  If 
your  age  and  your  circumstances  permit,  by  all  means  take 
the  regular  way  of  doing  this.  Go  to  a  good  school,  and  fit 
yourself  for  college.  Then  accomplish  a  college  course  and 
be  a  graduate.  There  is  no  other  plan  for  you  so  wise  as 
this.  Do  not  undertake  to  educate  yourself,  if  it  is  possible 
for  you  to  get  yourself  educated.  There  will  be  quite  enough 
of  self-educating  for  you  to  do  in  getting  yourself  properly 

educated. 

A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing, 

sings  Pope,  with  excellently  good  wisdom,  in  very  moder- 
ately good  poetry.  Still,  we  believe  all  our  readers  may 


A   Word  or    Two  of  Advice.  59 

safely  venture  on  knowing  as  much  as  we  have  now  sug- 
gested about  the  Latin  language.  With  this  not  cumbrous 
equipment  of  knowledge,  not  one,  we  dare  warrant,  of  them 
all  will  make  the  mistake  of  setting  up  for  a  critical  Latin 
scholar.  We  should  even  hope  that  prudence  and  modesty 
would  be  the  fruit,  full  rather  than  conceit  and  audacity. 

As  to  pronunciation  of  Latin,  there  are  wide  diver- 
gences of  practice,  and  the  divergences  of  theory  are  not 
slight.  Theoretically,  what  is  called  the  Roman  pronuncia- 
tion is,  we  suppose,  the  nearest  approximation  yet  made  to 
the  orthoepy  of  the  ancient  Romans  themselves.  This  pro- 
nunciation is  gaining  ground.  The  present  writer  remembers 
the  time  when  the  college  at  which  he  was  then  student  stood 
alone  among  American  colleges  in  adopting,  under  the  in- 
trepid lead  of  that  admirable  instructor,  Professor  J.  F.  Rich- 
ardson, the  Roman  method  of  pronouncing  Latin.  This 
method  our  readers  need  not  take  even  the  very  little  trouble 
it  would  require  to  master.  Nor  had  they  better  undertake 
the  so-called  Continental  method.  Just  adhere  to  the  per- 
verse old  English  method,  the  very  worst,  probably,  in  itself 
of  all  methods,  but  among  English-speakers  in  possession 
still,  to  such  an  extent  that,  for  practical  purposes,  it  is  to 
you  for  the  present  the  best.  The  differences  of  the  different 
systems  of  Latin  orthoepy  concern  both  the  vowels  and  the 
consonants.  We  cannot  here  profitably  consume  space  to 
indicate  what  even  the  chief  differences  are. 

There  is  one  point,  however,  in  which  all  methods  agree, 
and  that  is  a  point  in  which  they  all  agree  to  differ  from  the 
usage  that  obtains  in  the  pronunciation  of  the  English 
tongue.  According  to  any  recognized  method  of  pronounc- 
ing Latin,  every  several  vowel  or  diphthong  makes  a  sylla- 
ble. There  are  no  silent  vowels  in  Latin.  Simply  remember 
this  principle,  and  you  will  be  saved  from  very  many  of  the 
mistakes  that,  in  pronouncing  Latin,  an  English  speaker  is 
likely  to  make.  Take  the  Latin  expressions,  familiar  to 


60  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

every  one  in  English,  ex  tempore,  pro  tempore.  To  say,  ex 
tem'pore,  pro  teniporc,  in  three  syllables,  is  barbarous.  Make 
four  syllables — ex  tempo-re,  pro  tempo-re.  So  of  sine  die. 
Make  four  syllables,  two  to  each  word — sine  di'e. 

Again,  all  methods  of  Latin  pronunciation  agree  in  observ- 
ing carefully  what  is  called  quantity.  If  the  next  to  the  last, 
that  is,  the  penultimate,  syllable  in  any  word  is  long,  that 
syllable  receives  the  accent.  Whether  a  given  syllable  is 
long  or  short  you  cannot,  in  all  cases,  at  sight  determine. 
If  the  vowel  is  a  diphthong,  the  syllable  containing  it  is  in- 
variably long ;  for  example,  Athense'um,  not  Athe'naeum. 
This,  likewise,  almost  invariably  holds  true:  If  the  vowel  in  a 
syllable  is  followed  by  two  consecutive  consonants  the  sylla- 
ble is  long.  Thus  Bayard  Taylor  made  a  slip  in  so  versifying 
a  passage  in  his  translation  of  Goethe's  (pronounced  very 
nearly  as  Gur'tur,  with  the  r  sound  in  both  syllables  omitted) 
"  Faust,"  that  you  have  to  accent  mag'ister  on  the  first  syl- 
lable. It  is  a  case  in  which  the  penult  is  long  by  two  con- 
secutive consonants,  s  and  /,  following  the  vowel — magis'ter. 
Libert'as,  volunt'as,  volupt'as,  are  words  falling  under  the 
same  rule,  though  likely  to  be  misaccented  by  English 
speakers.  This  is  the  principle  on  which  Worcester,  with 
the  other  best  English  orthoepists,  pronounces  demon'strate, 
illus'trate,  devas'tate,  etc.,  instead  of  dem'onstrate,  il'lustrate, 
dev'astate,  etc.  Your  Latin  lexicon,  you  will  find,  in  doubt- 
ful cases  marks  the  principal  vowels  in  each  word  with  their 
proper  quantity.  Heed  these  marks  scrupulously,  if  you 
desire  to  be  correct  in  your  quantity — a  very  important  test 
of  good  Latin  scholarship. 

A  good  idea  would  be,  for  all  our  readers  of  the  class  here 
particularly  addressed,  to  familiarize  themselves  with  the 
quotations  from  Latin  given,  for  instance,  in  the  dictionary, 
Webster's  or  Worcester's,  which  they  use.  A  little  attention 
to  this  list,  bestowed  daily  for  a  week,  would  probably  suf- 
fice. The  result  would  be  not  only  a  convenient  addition  to 


A   Word  or   Tu<o  cf  Advice.  61 

your  stock  of  knowledge,  in  the  understanding  of  these  spe- 
cific Latin  words  and  phrases,  but  beyond  that  a  certain  serv- 
iceable conversance  with  the  Latin  idiom  of  expression  in 
general.  Get  the  quotations,  and  the  English  renderings  of 
the  quotations,  in  both  ways  ;  that  is,  so  that,  given  the  Latin, 
the  English  will  be  ready  on  your  tongue  ;  and,  conversely, 
so  that,  the  English  given,  you  can  instantly  respond  with 
the  Latin.  Do  not,  by  the  way,  assume  that  the  English 
equivalents  given  are  always  word-for-word  translations  of 
the  Latin.  Use  a  Latin  lexicon,  if  you  wish  to  be  sure  of  the 
meaning  of  a  particular  word.  The  sense  of  command,  ac- 
quired through  this  simple  process  of  memorizing,  over  a 
little  stock  of  Latin  words  and  phrases,  will  yield  to  you  a 
satisfaction  more  than  worth  the  trifling  pains  it  will  cost. 
Professor  Blackie  in  his  little  book,  "  Self-Culture,"  has  some 
hints  worth  attention  on  method  in  acquiring  foreign  lan- 
guages. 

One  item  more  of  advice,  and  we  have  done.  Begin  now 
watchfully  to  note  the  obvious  derivations  of  English  words 
from  Latin,  that  you  have  been  all  your  life  in  the  habit  of 
passing  over  without  heed.  You  can  make  your  own  native 
language  half  subserve  the  purpose  of  a  lexicon  to  ordinary 
Latin  prose.  For  your  help  in  doing  this,  consult  your  English 
lexicon,  in  which  you  have  given,  along  with  the  definitions, 
the  etymologies  of  the  words  defined.  Very  interesting  it 
will  be  to  you,  very  instructive  as  well,  to  take  some  particu- 
lar selected  word  and,  tracing  it  from  one  language  to  an- 
other, see,  with  what  changes  of  form  suffered  in  several 
different  languages,  that  word  may  nevertheless  remain  sub- 
stantially and  recognizably  the  same.  To  illustrate,  the 
English  word  heart,  you  probably  never  thought  of  as  the 
same  with  the  Latin  word  cor,  although  to  be  cordial  and  to 
be  hearty  would  in  your  mouth  be  equivalent  expressions.  But 
observe,  when  you  say  "heart,"  you  can  breathe  the  h  sound  in 
the  word  as  hard  and  gutturally  as  you  please.  Breathing 


62  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

it  very  roughly,  somewhat  as  if  you  were  clearing  your  throat, 
you  make  the  h  almost  like  a  k  rather  softly  uttered.  Broad- 
en the  vowel  sound  a,  and  you  approximate  the  sound  o. 
Now  leave  off  the  t  final,  and  you  are  speaking  tolerable 
Latin,  when,  with  these  changes,  you  say  heart.  The  Greek 
equivalent  word  is  kardia,  the  German  word  is  hertz,  the 
Sanskrit  word  is  hrid — all  closely  related,  one  to  another, 
as  derived  probably  from  one  common  original  language  now 
lost.  Through  some  such  simple  illustration  as  this,  one 
comes  to  conceive  more  vividly  what  philologists  mean  by 
their  talk  of  Indo-European  languages,  that  is,  languages 
sprung  from  a  supposed  primitive  speech  that  great  popular 
migrations  once  spread  over  Hindostan  and  Europe. 

Furthermore,  this  single  example  supplies  by  suggestion 
two  or  three  principles  under  which  changes  may  take  place 
in  words,  as  the  words  pass  from  one  language  to  another. 
First,  observe,  vowels  may  be  very  freely  interchanged. 
Secondly,  certain  kindred  consonants  may  relieve  one  another 
at  will.  Thirdly,  letters  may,  within  certain  ascertainable 
limits,  be  mutually  transposed. 

Now,  let  watchful  readers  remark,  all  this  philological 
learning  of  ours  is  capable  of  being  verified  by  reference  to  so 
accessible  a  book  as  Webster's  Dictionary  unabridged :  see 
the  word  heart.  Make  the  most  of  your  dictionaries. 
Comparative  philology,  to  be  sure,  is  not  so  perfectly  easy 
a  science  that  we  could  conscientiously  recommend  to 
any  reader  to  profess  himself  a  specialist  in  it,  without 
much  move  than  merely  incidental  and  diverting  atten- 
tion paid  to  the  subject  in  unabridged  English  dictionaries. 
For  all  that,  however,  is  it  not  pleasant  to  see  vistas  opened 
here  and  there  to  the  light,  where  nothing  but  impenetrable 
darkness  presented  itself  before?  You  feel  like  a  soul  un- 
imprisoned.  Your  horizon  widens  around  you.  You  breathe 
an  ampler  air. 

In  this  released  spirit,  and  enjoying  it  to  the  full,  you  that 


A   Word  or   Two  of  Advice.  63 


actually  follow  the  advice  which,  we  trust,  you  have  now 
been  reading,  may  go  on  in  company  with  the  rest  who,  alas 
for  them  !  made  a  skip  of  the  present  chapter — and  take  up 
what  comes  alter,  with  as  much  greater  satisfaction  than  can 
belong  to  those  others  as  your  humility  and  enterprise  are 
greater  than  theirs. 


V. 
THE    LATIN     READER. 

WE  have  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  spend  time  in  any 
detailed  mention  of  the  numerous  books  that  have  been 
prepared  by  enterprising  authors,  to  facilitate  the  way 
of  beginners  in  Latin.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that 
the  publishing  houses  named  in  our  "  Preparatory  Greek 
Course  in  English,"  with  other  houses  of  like  rank,  may  be 
applied  to  for  descriptive  catalogues  of  their  issues,  with  all 
confidence  on  the  part  of  the  reader  that  he  will  not  go 
amiss  in  selecting  for  himself  his  manual  from  the  lists  which 
they  offer  abundantly  to  his  choice.  Harkness's  series  of 
books  in  Latin  are  excellent,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of 
Allen  and  Greenough's,  with  Leighton's  introductory  book, 
"Latin  Lessons,"  referring  to  the  grammar  of  the  Latin 
series.  Leighton's  manual  has  a  brief  and  clear  explanation 
of  the  two  methods,  English  and  Roman,  of  pronouncing 
Latin.  The  later  beginning-books  in  Latin  have,  as  a  rule, 
much  the  advantage  in  point  of  method  over  their  old-time 
predecessors.  The  "  Historia  Sacra,"  it  may  interest  some 
readers  to  know,  was  a  book  of  auld  lang  syne  made  up  of 
passages  from  the  Bible,  translated  into  Latin.  We  say  of 
auld  lang  syne,  for  this  text-book  is  now,  we  suppose,  to  be 
classed  among  the  things  that  were.  It  well  served  its  turn 
for  many  in  its  day.  Old  "  Ainsworth's  Dictionary,"  too,  is 
nearly  or  quite  superseded  by  more  modern  dictionaries 


64  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

much  better  than  that.  Our  readers  will  find  the  Latin  dic- 
tionary published  last  by  the  Harpers  the  fullest  and  best. 
A  smaller  and  less  expensive  work,  easy  to  carry  and  easy 
to  handle,  exceedingly  compendious,  and  for  all  ordinary 
purposes  of  mere  translation  quite  sufficient,  is  White's  Dic- 
tionary, published  in  this  country  by  Ginn,  Heath,  &  Co. 
White's  Dictionary  has  two  parts,  Latin-English  and  English- 
Latin,  to  be  bought,  we  believe,  either  separately  or  together. 
The  Latin-English  gives  the  Latin  words  in  alphabetical 
order,  with  their  equivalents  in  English,  while  the  English- 
Latin  proceeds  conversely.  There  are  to  be  had  editions  of 
the  various  authors  most  commonly  read  in  the  preparatory 
Latin  course,  containing,  in  connection  with  the  text  itself, 
(and  with  the  explanatory  notes  almost  always  accompanying 
the  texts,)  special  lexicons,  partial,  indeed,  but  full  enough 
for  the  satisfactory  rendering  of  the  particular  works  or  selec- 
tions to  which  they  severally  appertain.  Greenough's  lexicon 
to  Virgil  is  worthy  of  particular  mention,  not  only  as  being 
an  admirable  piece  of  work,  but  as  being  obtainable  either 
with  or  without  the  text  for  which  it  is  prepared.  These 
special  lexicons  will  in  many  cases  make  unnecessary  the 
purchase  of  larger  and  more  costly  dictionaries.  Readers, 
however,  who  can  conveniently  do  so,  will  act  wisely  to  pos- 
sess themselves  of  the  best. 

And  now  for  the  Latin  Reader.  The  Latin  Reader  is  a 
book  compiled  very  much  after  the  fashion  of  the  Reader  in 
Greek,  with  which,  in  the  preceding  volume,  our  friends 
had,  many  of  them,  an  opportunity  of  becoming  somewhat 
acquainted.  The  contents  of  the  book  vary  according  to 
the  choice  made  by  the  particular  editor  or  compiler.  Any 
Latin  Reader,  however,  is  pretty  sure,  like  any  Greek,  to 
contain  its  share  of  fables,  of  anecdotes,  of  historical  frag- 
ments, of  mythology,  of  biography.  The  collection  has  thus 
almost  always  a  good  spice  of  variety.  The  tyro  is  con- 
stantly allured  along  the  paths  of  Latin  lore  by  some 


The  Latin  Reader.  65 


appetizing  bait,  of  tale,  of  witty  wisdom,  held  out  before  him, 
in  every  succeeding  paragraph  which,  by  dint  of  much  turn- 
ing and  thumbing  of  the  leaves  of  his  lexicon,  he  slowly 
comes  to  understand,  with  more  or  with  less  of  distinct  and 
certain  comprehension.  The  sweet  juice  of  the  meaning  is 
usually  well  diluted  in  the  youthful  student's  mouth  with  the 
secretions  of  his  own  mental  idiosyncrasy,  excited  to  flow  by 
the  long  suspense  of  ruminant  mastication  necessary  before 
the  mingled  product  is  ready  to  be  swallowed  and  entered 
into  his  hungry  individual  circulation.  A  rather  tantaliz- 
ing process — for  the  present,  but — ct  Jiacc  olim  mcminisse^ 
"to  remember  even  these  things  afterward,"  as  Virgil  has  it, 
in  his  memory-haunting  phrase  !  On  the  whole,  the  Latin 
Reader  (ask  any  college  graduate)  is  saturate  with  pleasurable 
association.  And  indeed  the  book  is  a  genuinely  interesting 
one. 

Still,  our  readers,  unless  we  should  do  a  little  managing  for 
them  in  this  matter,  would  be  apt  to  feel  that,  in  comparison 
of  the  Latin  Reader  with  the  Greek,  there  was,  when  both 
were  done  into  English,  surprisingly  little  difference  between 
the  two;  and  the  truth  is  that,  already,  even  with  the  Latin 
Reader,  the  Roman  genius  begins  to  be  displayed,  in  its  lit- 
erary production,  very  dependent  on  the  Greek.  The  same 
fables  recur,  with  naturalized  Greek  ^Esop  for  putative  father 
of  them  all.  The  anecdotes  are  many  of  them  concerning 
Greek  personages  and  incidents. 

Now  it  would  be  quite  fair  to  Roman  literary  fame  to  let 
this  imitative  character  of  the  Roman  literature  everywhere 
fully  appear  in  these  pages.  There  would  be  also  the  ad- 
vantage to  our  readers  of  seeing  for  themselves  from  the 
start  how  Rome  was  well  content  to  echo  Greece  in  letters. 
On  the  other  hand,  however,  this  book  of  ours,  following,  as 
it  properly  does,  in  order  of  appearance,  the  corresponding 
one  in  Greek,  might  thus  be,  at  least  in  the  present  chapter, 
somewhat  less  entertaining  than,  for  our  readers'  sake,  we 


66  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

are  resolved,  if  we  can,  to  make  it.  So,  the  advantage  just 
now  named  being  mainly  saved  to  our  friends  by  our  merely 
having  named  it,  we  shall  choose  to  give  here,  from  the 
contents  of  the  Latin  Reader,  only  such  material,  and  that 
in  very  brief  exemplification,  as  may  be  most  differenced 
from  the  Greek,  and  most  racy  of  the  native  Roman 
character. 

There  was,  a  century  or  so  ago,  a  compilation  made  from 
various  Latin  writers,  entitled  "  Viri  Romae,"  which  formerly 
was  much  used  by  beginners  in  the  study  of  the  language. 
This  compilation  would,  of  course,  from  the  character  prom- 
ised in  its  title,  be  highly  flavored  with  the  authentic  Roman 
life  and  spirit.  But  Livy,  for  instance — one  of  the  writers 
upon  whom,  with  Valerius  Maximus  and  others,  the  volume 
referred  to  draws  for  its  material — is  too  important  a  creator 
of  Roman  literature  not  to  be  represented  more  liberally 
than  in  the  fragmentary  way  of  excerpts  such  as  could  find 
room  in  a  beginning-book  in  Latin. 

Cornelius  Nepos,  (about  50  B.  C.,)  again,  is  a  simple,  vir- 
tuously-disposed biographer,  who  has  been  widely  used  to 
give  learners  their  start  in  construing  Latin.  This,  notwith- 
standing that,  judged  by  the  standard  of  Cicero,  Nepos  vio- 
lates sometimes  the  purest  and  best  Latinity.  Conscientious 
editors  get  along  with  that  objection  by  duly  warning  the 
endangered  tyro  (absurdly  safe  already  he,  from  all  literary 
infection  whatsoever,  bad  and  good  alike  !)  against  his  au- 
thor's slips  in  style.  Nepos,  however,  unlike  Livy,  might  be 
fairly  enough  presented  piecemeal,  both  because  that  is  the 
only  state  in  which  he  at  present  exists  for  us,  and  because 
his  rank  in  letters  is  very  humble.  But  as  to  Nepos,  good, 
kind,  insipid  Nepos,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  is  really  good 
enough  to  merit  being  presented  at  all  to  our  friends,  even  in 
our  Englished  Latin  Reader. 

Let  us  begin  with  a  story  exceedingly  well  invented,  if  not 
true.  Perhaps  the  story  might  be  described  as  founded  on 


The  Latin  Reader.  67 


fact.  The  incidents,  taken  together,  are  a  little  too  entirely 
satisfactory  to  have  happened  just  so  in  every  circumstance. 
But  here  is  the  story  as  the  Latin  Reader  gives  it.  Our 
readers  need  only  be  reminded  that  Actium  was  one  of  the 
great  decisive  battles  of  the  world,  and  that  it  was  fought 
between  Augustus  Ceesar  and  Mark  Antony,  with  event  in 
favor  of  Caesar.  We  translate,  a  little  awkwardly  perhaps, 
with  pretty  close  literalness  : 

When,  the  victory  at  Actium  having  been  won.  Augustus  was  making 
his  entry  into  Rome,  there  met  him,  in  the  number  of  those  who  were 
offering  their  congratulations,  a  certain  artisan,  with  a  raven  which  he 
had  taught  to  say,  "  Long  live  Caesar,  victor,  emperor  !  "  Caesar,  struck 
with  admiration  of  so  courteous  a  bird,  bought  it  for  twenty  thousand 
sesterces,  [nearly  a  thousand  dollars.]  A  partner  of  the  artisan,  whom 
no  share  of  the  imperial  liberality  had  reached,  assured  Caesar  that  he 
had  a  different  raven,  which,  accordingly,  he  directed  should  be  brought. 
The  raven  being  brought  uttered  the  words  which  he  had  taught  it, 
"  Long  live  the  victor,  the  emperor,  Antony  !  "  In  no  degree  offended 
at  this,  Augustus  deemed  it  sufficient  to  direct  that  the  teacher  of  the 
ravens  share  the  reward  received  with  his  companion. 

Similarly  saluted  by  a  parrot,  he  ordered  that  to  be  bought.  Admir- 
ing the  same  thing  in  a  magpie,  he  purchased  that  also. 

The  example  incited  a  poor  shoemaker  to  train  a  raven  to  a  like  salu- 
tation ;  but  as  it  did  not  make  very  good  proficiency,  he  fell  into  the  way 
of  saying  frequently  to  the  bird  not  replying,  "  It  is  labor  and  outlay 
lost."  At  length,  however,  the  raven  came  to  say  the  salutation  taught. 
Hearing  this  as  he  passed,  Augustus  responded,  "  I  have  a  sufficient 
number  of  such  saluters  at  my  house."  Thereupon  the  raven  added 
those  words  in  which  he  was  accustomed  to  hear  his  master  complaining, 
"It  is  labor  and  outlay  lost."  At  this  Caesar  laughed,  and  directed  to 
have  the  bird  bought  at  the  highest  price  of  all." 

Here  is  that  fine  story,  now  worn  threadbare,  of  the  Ro- 
man matron,  Cornelia : 

Cornelia,  mother  of  the  Gracchi,  when  a  Campanian  lady,  guest  at  her 
house,  was  displaying  to  her  her  jewels,  very  beautiful  ones,  kept  the 
conversation  on  that  subject  in  progress  till  her  sons  returned  from  school. 
"  And  these,"  then  she  said,  "  are  my  jewels." 


68  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

There  is  no  story  like  the  foregoing  told  of  a  Greek  moth- 
er. The  nearest  approach  to  it-rand  the  interval  of  differ- 
ence is  long — would  perhaps  be  the  narrative  of  some  inci- 
dent, such  as  our  readers  will  remember  from  the  Prepara- 
tory Greek  Course  in  English,  of  a  Spartan  mother's  brave 
cheer  to  her  boy,  it  may  be,  bound  to  battle,  or,  it  may  be, 
come  out  of  battle  lame  with  glorious  wound.  The  truth 
is,  the  Greeks  had  not  so  much  domestic  life,  and  not  so 
much  virtue  of  kindred  affection,  as  had  the  Romans. 
The  wife,  the  mother,  the  woman,  was  more  at  Rome  than 
in  Greece.  This,  in  the  earlier  and  purer  period  of  Roman 
history,  the  period,  that  is  to  say,  before  conquered  Greece, 
herself  grown  degenerate  no\v,  had  begun  to  corrupt  her 
conqueror. 

By  the  way,  simply  interpreting  the  sons  backward  by  such 
a  mother  as  the  Cornelia  of  this  anecdote,  shall  we  not,  with 
some  confidence,  hold  the  Gracchi  to  have  been  rather  pa- 
triots than  demagogues?  Demagogues  should  have  a  differ- 
ent mother  from  the  mother  of  the  Gracchi. 

There  is  a  touching  story  of  the  early  Christian  Church, 
which  associates  itself  naturally  with  the  foregoing  legend 
of  Roman  Cornelia.  After  the  Christian  bishop,  Sixtus,  had 
suffered  martyrdom,  his  deacon  was  ordered  to  produce  the 
treasures  of  the  Church  for  surrender  to  the  civil  authorities. 
The  deacon  assembled  the  poor  whom  the  Church  nourished, 
and,  exhibiting  them  to  the  prefect,  said  to  him,  "  Here  are 
the  Church's  treasures!  "  Pagan  Cornelia  had,  perhaps,  fur- 
nished to  the  Christian  deacon  the  model  of  his  unanswer- 
able reply. 

We  did  not,  our  readers  will  bear  us  witness,  spare  the 
Roman  character  in  our  sketch  of  the  Roman  history.  Now 
let  our  readers  again  bear  us  witness  that  we  are  even  more 
than  fair  in  giving  the  Roman  character  its  chance  to  redeem 
itself  to  them,  in  noble  anecdote  and  instance.  Is  not  the 
following  a  wholesome  example  of  sturdy  virtue? 


The  Latin  Reader.  69 


Publius  Rutilius  Rufus,  standing  out  against  the  unjust  importunity 
of  a  certain  friend  of  his,  and  by  him  very  indignantly  upbraided  with, 
"Of  what  use,  then,  to  me  is  your  friendship,  if  you  do  not  do  what 
I  ask?"  said,  "IN" ay,  of  what  use  to  me  yours,  if,  on  your  account,  I 

act  unjustly  ?  " 

Rutilius  was  an  incorruptible  Roman  aristocrat;  and  as 
for  the  nameless  gentleman  in  the  case,  we' know  nothing 
whatever  to  his  advantage,  except  that  he  was  friend  to 
Rutilius. 

Augustus  Caesar  was  a  highly  religious  politician;  that  is, 
he  greatly  believed  in  religion — for  people  in  general.  He 
patronized  religion,  as  he  patronized  literature,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  state.  Of  the  state,  we  say,  but  the  state  was  a  syno- 
nym for  himself;  for  you  must  remember  that  Augustus  was 
the  first  Roman  fairly  entitled  to  have  stolen  from  Louis  XIV., 
of  France,  his  famous  words,  "  The  state,  it  is  I  myself." 
Perhaps  the  following  not  very  warmly  spiced  anecdote  of 
great  Scipio  Africanus  was  put  first  into  useful  popular  cir- 
culation at  the  provident  hint  of  astute  Augustus.  It  rends 
so  like  an  intended  good  example.  It  is  less  piquant,  but  it 
almost  reminds  you,  in  its  obvious'moral  aim,  of  that  national 
anecdote  of  our  own  about  good  little  George  Washington  and 
his  hatchet.  Convert  it,  and  baptize  it  into  Christianity,  and 
it  still  will  do  in  part  to  live  by: 

Scipio  Africanus  would  never  engage  in  public  business  until  he  had 
offered  prayer  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter.  For  this  reason  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  resort  to  the  Capitol  before  daylight. 

By  the  Capitol,  here,  you  are  to  understand  the  magnificent 
temple  of  Jupiter  situated  in  Rome,  on  the  Tarpeian  mount, 
otherwise  called  Capitoline  Hill.  The  pious  Roman  Cath- 
olic priest-painter  of  the  Middle  Ages,  Fra  Angelico,  always 
prayed  before  he  painted.  The  saintly  quality  of  his  pictures 
corresponds.  To  Scipio's  habit  of  devotion,  that  Roman's 
public  conduct  might  have  strictly  corresponded,  and  yet 


yo  •     Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


have  been  decidedly  rather  Roman  than  moral.  Jupiter  be- 
longed to  an  Olympus  of 

Gods  partial,  changeful,  passionate,  unjust, 
Whose  attributes  were  rage,  revenge,  or  lust — 

a  couplet,  by  the  way,  well  deserving  to  have  place,  as  it  has 
not,  in  the  repertories  of  familiar  poetical  quotation.  It  be- 
longs to  Pope,  occurring  in  his  Essay  on  Man. 

Metellus  Pius  (of  the  same  great  Roman  family,  in  a  later 
generation  of  it,  with  the  Quintus  Metellus  to  be  spoken  of 
presently,  when  Sallust  is  taken  up)  emulated  the  Spartan 
frugality  and  density  of  expression  : 

While  he  was  carrying  on  war  in  Spain,  being  asked  what  he  was 
going  to  do  the  next  day,  replied,  "  My  tunic,  if  that  were  able  to  tell, 
I  should  burn." 

The  inquiring  friend  in  the  case,  if  he  was  at  all  bright, 
must  have  gathered  from  this  that  Metellus  did  not  think 
it  good  generalship  to  divulge,  on  any  chance  challenge,  his 
military  plans.  • 

Then  there  is  that  fine  humanity  of  the  Emperor  Titus. 
Here  is  the  way  in  which  it  is  affectionately  told : 

Titus  was  called  the  love  and  the  delight  of  human  kind.  Recalling 
once  at  supper  that  he  had  rendered  no  service  to  any  one  during  the 
entire  day,  he  uttered  that  memorable  and  justly-lauded  expression, 
"  My  friends,  I  have  lost  a  day  !  " 

How  almost  Christian-like  it  seems  !  What  a  pity  that 
we  have  to  comment  it  by  the  acts  of  Titus's  life  !  Such  a 
sentiment,  on  the  lips  of  the  imperial  author,  must  receive 
from  you  an  interpretation  not  exactly  Christian  according 
to  the  Christianity  of  one  of  Titus's  contemporaries,  the 
apostle  Paul — when  you  remember  that  it  was  Titus  who 
destroyed  Jerusalem,  and  massacred  its  millions  of  inhabit- 
ants, men,  women,  and  children  together — that  it  was  Titus 


The  Latin  Reader.  7 1 


who,  to  dedicate  the  Colosseum,  (finished  by  him,)  and,  in 
connection  with  that,  his  magnificent  baths,  gave  gladiatorial 
shows  lasting  a  hundred  days,  in  the  course  of  which,  it  is 
mentioned,  besides  the  uncounted  human  beings  that  slew 
and. were  slain,  five  thousand  wild  beasts  were  set  fighting  in 
the  arena  on  a  single  occasion.  Every  day  of  those  hun- 
dred, Titus  had  done  a  highly  valued  favor  to  a  great  many 
people.  Not  less  than  eighty  thousand  spectators  daily  wit- 
nessed his  bloody  exhibitions.  Not  on  any  evening  of  this 
crowded  interval,  at  least,  could  it  have  been,  that  the  gentle 
emperor  heaved  his  sentimental  sigh  over  having  lost  a  day! 
Still,  it  was  a  fine  sentiment,  and  really  Titus  was,  as  Roman 
emperors  went,  a  very  humane  gentleman.  The  standards 
by  which  men  judge,  nay,  the  very  spirit  itself  within  men 
that  judges,  have  changed  since  Titus.  There  have  suc- 
ceeded nineteen  centuries  of  Christianity. 

Cicero  was  a  famous  wit,  as  well  as  a  famous  orator.  But 
wTit  has  to  be  of  a  most  inextinguishable  quality  to  bear  trans- 
lation from  one  language  to  another,  especially,  perhaps,  to 
bear  translation  from  one  civilization,  or  mode  of  life  and 
thought,  to  another.  Try  here  a  specimen  of  Cicero's  mem- 
orable witticisms : 

To  Dolabella,  remarking  that  he  [Dolabella]  was  thirty  years  of  age, 
Cicero  said,  "  True,  for  I  have  been  hearing  that  now  these  twenty 
years  past." 

There  is  another  version  of  this  anecdote.  That  other 
version  leaves  Dolabella  quite  out  of  the  case,  and  for  him 
substitutes  a  lady,  though  it  gallantly  omits  to  mention  the 
lady's  name.  Anecdotes  in  those  times,  like  anecdotes  in 
these  times,  seem  to  have  had  a  trick  of  getting  themselves 
foisted  upon  various  persons,  and  fitted  to  different  occasions, 
according  to  the  chance,  or  the  whim,  or  the  purpose,  of  the 
narrator. 

On  Cicero's  jest,  as  the  jest  was  given  according  to  the 


7?  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


first  version  of  the  story,  our  readers  are  entitled  to  have 
•what  light  may  be  thrown  by  the  fact  that  Dolabella  was  a 
celebrated  profligate,  who  became  Cicero's  son-in-law.  Per- 
haps the  fellow  had  long  been  a  well-known  man  about  town 
who  now,  as  suitor  to  Cicero's  daughter,  was,  for  the  twen- 
tieth time,  playing  himself  off  for  much  younger  than  he  was. 
Our  readers  will  probably  agree  that  it  is,  in  this  case,  the 
fame  of  the  joker  which  makes  the  fame  of  the  joke.  They 
will  also  not  fail  to  observe  that  what  point  the  saying  pos- 
sesses, lies  in  the  sarcasm  of  it.  The  Roman  genius,  of  itself, 
knew  how  to  be  sarcastic.  Not  even  Greek  tuition  could 
teach  it  how  to  be  innocently  and  archly  playful. 

Here,  however,  are  some  pleasantries  of  Cicero's  that  come 
pretty  near  that  mark  : 

When  he  had  seen  Lcntulus,  his  son,  a  person  of  slight  stature,  girded 
with  a  long  sword,  "Who,"  said  he,  "has  been  hitching  my  son  to  a 

sword  ?  " 

Once  more : 

Crcsar — his  colleague  in  the  consulship  having  died  on  the  last  day 
of  December — had,  at  the  seventh  hour,  announced  Caninius  as  consul 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  As,  according  to  custom,  a  number  of  persons 
were  going  to  salute  him,  "Let  us  hasten,"  said  Cicero,  "before  he  gets 
out  of  his  magistracy."  Concerning  the  same  Caninius,  Cicero  wrote, 
"A  man  of  wonderful  vigilance  was  Caninius,  for  during  the  whole  of 
his  consulship,  he  never  saw  sleep." 

Now  take  the  following  word  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius: 

Tiberius,  to  ambassadors  from  Troas  tendering  him,  a  little  tardily, 
condolences  on  the  death  of  his  son  Drusus,  mockingly  responded  that 
he  also  commiserated  them  in  turn  on  the  loss  of  their  illustrious  fellow- 
citizen,  Hector. 

One  almost  detects  in  this  turn  of  Tiberius  the  unconscious 
original  of  that  recent  American  humor  about  dropping  a  tear 
at  the  grave  of  Adam.  But  it  was  not  pleasantry — however 
ill-timed,  unfatherly,  and  unimperial — it  was  sarcasm,  wet  with 


The  Latin  Reader.  73 


gall,  that  flavored  the  reply  of  gloomy  Emperor  Tiberius.  His 
son  Drusus  had  been  poisoned  by  the  emperor's  favorite  and 
familiar,  Se-ja'nus.  Was  it  the  earlier  and  better  Tiberius 
— let.  us  trust  so — that  spoke  sincerely  in  the  following  ? 

Tiberius,  to  some  provincial  governors,  urging  that  their  provinces 
should  be  loaded  down  with  taxes,  wrote  back,  "  It  is  the  part  of  a  good 
shepherd  to  shear  his  flock,  not  to  skin  them." 

Let  the  specimens  thus  already  presented  of  the  anecdotal 
store  contained  in  the  average  Latin  Reader  suffice  our  pres- 
ent purpose.  There  is  usually  included,  as  we  have  said,  a 
collection  of  mythological  fragments.  The  Roman  genius, 
as  it  was  in  nothing  else  more  original,  so  in  nothing  else  was 
it  more  fruitful,  than  in  the  production  of  myths  and  legends 
connected  with  the  national  history.  Livy,  however,  whom 
we  shall  treat  in  the  next  Latin  volume  of  this  series,  deals 
so  fully  in  the  national  Roman  myths,  that  we  may  wait  to 
reach  him  before  entering  upon  the  topic  thus  suggested, 
further  than  to  make  place  for  the  legend  of  Romulus  and 
Remus : 

The  vestal  virgin  Rhea  had  twin  sons,  Romulus  and  Remus,  by  Mars 
[the  god  of  war.]  Now  when  A-mu'li-us  [the  king]  learned  this,  he  threw 
the  mother  into  chains,  while  the  boys  he  ordered  to  be  cast  into  the 
Tiber.  It  happened  that  the  water  of  the  Tiber  had  overflowed  its 
bank,  and,  as  the  lads  had  been  deposited  in  a  shallow  place,  the  water 
subsiding  left  them  on  dry  land.  To  their  crying  a  she-wolf  came,  and 
nursed  them  from  her  dugs.  Which  seeing,  one  Faus'tu-lus,  a  shepherd 
of  that  part,  took  up  the  boys,  and  gave  them  to  his  wife,  Acca  Lau-ren'tia, 
to  be  nourished. 

There  still  exists  in  Rome  a  bronze  statue  of  the  she-wolf 
that  suckled  the  legendary  twins.     This  statue  Byron  apos- 
trophizes in  the  fourth  canto  of  the"  Childe  Harold,"  with  an 
allusion  to  the  fact  that  it  was  once  struck  by  lightning : 
And  thou,  the  thunder-stricken  nurse  of  Rome  ! 

Pictures  are  not  uncommon  of  this  famous  antique  statue. 
For  these  legends,  Livy,  as  we  have  hinted,  is  our  chief 
4 


74  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

authority.  He,  however,  reports  them,  not  as  if  he  believed 
them  himself,  and  not  as  if  he  expected  to  get  them  believed 
by  others,  but  as  if  he  would  go  back  in  his  history  to  the 
farthest  point  to  which  even  the  wildest  stories  in  the  mouths 
of  the  people  could  carry  him.  In  whatever  way  this  myth 
of  Romulus  and  Remus  was  originally  made  up,  there  is  a 
singular  poetic  fitness  in  it  to  the  character  and  career  of  the 
great  warlike  and  savage  nation  of  which  Romulus  was  the 
legendary  founder.  This  poetic  fitness  is  still  further  seen 
in  the  rest  of  the  myth  : 

Thus  Romulus  and  Remus  passed  their  boyhood  among  shepherds. 
When  they  had  grown  to  age,  and  by  chance  had  learned  who  had 
been  their  grandfather  and  who  their  mother,  they  slew  Amulius, 
and  restored  the  kingdom  to  their  grandfather  Nu'mi-tor.  They  then 
built  on  Mount  Aventine  a  city  which  Romulus,  from  his  own  name, 
called  Rome.  While  this  was  being  surrounded  with  walls,  Remus  was 
killed  in  the  act  of  mocking  his  brother  by  leaping  over  the  walls. 

It  is  certainly  the  fact,  that  during  the  earliest,  most  vigor- 
ous, most  virtuous,  and  generally  best,  period  of  Roman  his- 
tory, the  nation  was  composed  of  farmers,  who  now  tilled 
their  own  land,  and  now  fought  their  own  battles.  The  boy- 
hood of  the  nation  was,  like  the  boyhood  of  its  founder, 
passed  in  rustic  simplicity. 

Romulus,  that  he  might  increase  the  number  of  citizens,  opened  a 
kind  of  asylum,  to  which  many,  driven  from  their  own  states,  made  their 
resort.  But  to  the  citizens  of  the  new  city  there  were  wanting  wives. 
He  accordingly  instituted  a  festival  of  Neptune,  together  with  games. 
When  to  these  many  out  of  the  neighboring  peoples  had  come,  with 
women  and  children,  the  Romans  in  the  midst  of  the  games  violentl/ 
bore  oft  the  virgins  who  were  witnessing  the  spectacles.  .  .  . 

After  the  death  of  Romulus,  there  was  a  year's  interregnum.  At  the 
end  of  this  time,  Nu-'ma  Pom-pil'i-us,  born  in  Cu'res,  a  city  in  the  ter- 
ritory of  the  Sabines,  was  made  king.  This  great  man  waged,  indeed, 
no  war,  but  he  was  not  for  that  less  useful  to  the  state.  For  he  both 
gave  laws  and  instituted  many  religious  rites  which  tended  to  soften  the 
manners  of  a  savage  and  warlike  people.  All,  however,  that  he  did  he 


The  Latin  Reader.  75 


used  to  assert  that  he  did  at  the  instance  of  the  nymph  E-ge'ri-a,  his 
spouse.     He  died  of  disease  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of  his  reign. 

The  story  of  the  nymph  Egeria  has  the  element  of  beauty 
and  poetry  in  it.  Byron  has  touched  it  in  his  "  Childe  Harold  " 
with  some  true  imaginative  feeling  and  with  admirable  art : 

Egeria  !  sweet  creation  of  some  heart 
Which  found  no  mortal  resting-place  so  fair 
As  thine  ideal  breast  ;  whate'er  thou  art 
Or  wert — a  young  Aurora  of  the  air. 
The  nympholepsy  of  some  fond  despair  ; 
Or,  it  might  be,  a  beauty  of  the  earth, 
Who  found  a  more  than  common  votaiy  there 
Too  much  adoring  ;  whatsoe'er  thy  birth, 
Thou  wert  a  beautiful  thought,  and  softly  bodied  forth. 

Let  those  of  our  readers  who  love  poetry  turn  to  the  pas- 
sage in  the  poem.  It  there  runs  on  through  several  stanzas. 
It  is  finally  modulated  into  one  of  the  most  magnificent 
bursts  of  the  Byronic  impiety  to  be  found  in  the  whole  range 
of  the  Byronic  poetry.  Happily  and  unhappily,  this  poetic 
impiety  in  Byron  is  never  anywhere  more  than  half-hearted 
— unhappily,  for  the  quality  of  the  poetry  inspired  ;  happily, 
for  the  measure  of  malign  influence  exerted.  To  be  either 
highest  in  literary  merit,  or  highest  in  power  of  impression, 
literature  needs  to  be  intensely  real  and  genuine.  Poor 
Byron  !  let  it  always,  in  mercy  to  his  fame,  be  remembered 
that  he  died  at  thirty-six — too  early  for  the  period  of  "  life 
outliving  heats  of  youth." 

Did  we  almost  promise  to  stop  with  the  one  myth  of 
Romulus  and  Remus  ?  Well,  we  did  not  quite  promise,  you 
know;  and  how  could  you,  on  your  part,  have  spared  the 
legend  of  Egeria,  and  how  could  we,  on  ours,  deny  ourselves 
the  pleasure  of  giving  you  that  little  garnish  of  poetry  about 
the  nymph  to  grace  our  page  withal  ? 

Among  the  late  changes  in  fashion  introduced  by  classical 
teachers  is  the  revived  plan  of  making  up  Latin  Readers 


"j6  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

that  consist  exclusively  of  selections  credited  to  standard 
Latin  authors.  As  we  write  here,  we  have  before  us  two 
such  collections,  one  edited  by  Professor  Harkness,  under 
the  title,  "Course  in  Caesar,  Sallust,  and  Cicero,"  the  other 
edited  by  Professor  W.  F.  Allen,  under  the  title,  "Latin 
Reader."  These  are  both  of  them  admirable  compilations. 
Both  are  furnished  with  explanatory  notes  and  with  vocabu- 
laries. Professor  Harkness's  book  has  in  addition  a  number 
of  interesting  illustrations.  Professor  Allen's  volume  repre- 
sents eleven  Latin  authors,  against  four  represented  in  the 
larger  volume  of  Professor  Harkness.  The  extracts  are  of 
course  correspondingly  shorter  in  the  smaller  volume. 

We  avail  ourselves  of  the  justification  offered  by  compila- 
tions such  as  these,  to  include  in  the  present  chapter  some 
notice,  accompanied  with  some  exemplification,  of  two  Latin 
authors  for  whom  otherwise  we  should  find  no  room  in  the 
volumes  of  this  series,  and  who  are  too  important  and  too 
entertaining  not  to  be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  our  read- 
ers. We  refer  to  Sallust  and  Ovid.  These  writers  are 
sometimes  wholly  omitted  in  the  course  of  Latin  literature 
accomplished  by  the  college  graduate.  Sometimes,  again, 
they  replace  two  other  writers  that  are  more  commonly 
studied — Sallust,  in  such  cases,  being  made  a  substitute  for 
Cassar,  and  Ovid  for  Virgil. 

We  bid  our  readers,  then,  observe  that  in  thus  adding 
Sallust  and  Ovid  to  our  list  of  Roman  authors  here  repre- 
sented, we  make  our  preparatory  Latin  course  in  English 
wider  and  more  varied  than,  in  the  case  of  most  college 
graduates,  was  their  preparatory  Latin  course  pursued  in  the 
original  language.  Ordinarily,  as  we  have  hinted,  Sallust 
and  Ovid  are  made  alternative  to  Caesar  and  Virgil.  We 
include  here  all  four  authors. 

(Readers  desiring  to  know  as  explicitly  as  possible  what 
tests  are  actually  applied  in  examining  candidates  for  matric- 
ulation at  college  may  satisfy  their  curiosity  by  consulting 


The  Latin  Reader.  77 


one  or  the  other  of  two  little  volumes  published  by  Ginn, 
Heath,  &  Co.,  under  the  titles,  respectively,  of  "  Yale  Exami- 
nation Papers  "  and  "  Harvard  Examination  Papers."  In 
these  are  reprinted  the  papers  really  used  in  recent  years 
for  entrance  examinations  at  the  two  institutions  named.  Of 
course  changes  are  made  in  the  examination  papers  from 
year  to  year.) 

SALLUST. 

Sallust  wrote  three  historical  works,  the  "  Conspiracy  of  Cat- 
iline," the  "  Jugurthine  War,"  and  a  "  History  of  Rome  from 
the  Death  of  Sulla  [Sylla]  to  the  Mithridatic  War."  This  last, 
the  most  important  of  the  three,  has,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  fragments,  perished.  The  other  two,  historical  mono- 
graphs— or  even  politico-historical  pamphlets,  we  might  al- 
most call  them — rather  than  histories,  remain  to  us  entire. 
If  we  should  give  our  readers  the  "  Conspiracy  of  Catiline," 
that  would  be  anticipating  in  great  part  what  they  will  find 
narrated  in  the  specimens  of  Cicero's  oratory  to  be  furnished 
in  this  volume.  We  decide,  therefore,  to  let  Sallust  appear 
in  his  "Jugurthine  War."  This  will  bring  the  celebrated 
Caius  Marius  before  us,  as  delineated  by  one  of  the  great  an- 
cient masters  of  historical  composition.  And  Jugurtha  him- 
self is  a  striking  and  commanding  figure,  set  in  temporary 
lurid  relief  against  the  threatened,  but  finally  victorious, 
greatness  of  Rome. 

Caius,  or  to  adopt  the  latest  vogue  in  Latin  scholarship, 
Gains,  or  Gajus — Sallustius  Crispus,  more  familiar  as  simply 
Sallust,  the  historian,  was  born  86  B.  C.  We  know  little  of 
the  beginning  of  his  life.  He  became  senator  early  enough 
to  be,  ostensibly  for  his  profligate  manners,  expelled  from 
the  senate  when  he  was  thirty-six  years  old.  He  got  his 
seat  again  three  years  afterward.  He  was  lucky  enough  to 
choose  his  side  with  Caesar  in  the  civil  war,  and  for  this  was 
made  governor  of  Numidia.  His  Numidian  experience,  per- 
haps, qualified  him  the  better  to  treat  the  subject  of  his 


78  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

"  Jugurthine  War."  It  at  least  gave  him  the  opportunity  to 
amass  immense  riches,  with  which  to  retire  from  public  life 
and  devote  himself  to  literature.  He  died,  however,  at  the 
comparatively  early  age  of  fifty-two.  The  residence  he 
occupied  in  Rome  was  in  the  midst  of  grounds  laid  out  and 
beautified  by  him  with  the  most  lavish  magnificence.  These 
grounds  became  subsequently  the  chosen  resort  of  the 
Roman  emperors.  They  still  bear  the  name  of  the  Gardens 
of  Sallust.  Sallust  moralized  with  much  virtue  in  his  histo- 
ries, but  his  actual  life  was  said  to  be  deformed  with  nearly 
every  vice  and  excess. 

The  "  Jugurthine  War  "  is  commenced  with  a  sort  of  moral 
essay,  or  homily,  not  having  the  least  particular  relation  to 
the  subject  about  to  be  treated.  Our  readers  must  see  in 
specimen  this  absurdly  placed  bit  of  didactics.  It  will  throw 
for  them  a  light  of  illustration  on  the  character  of  the  man 
who  could  with  grave  face  inappropriately  obtrude  in  a 
history  a  preface  of  sentiments  so  violently  out  of  accord 
with  his  own  notorious  practice.  We  use  the  translation,  a 
very  good  one,  printed  in  Bonn's  Classical  Library: 

Mankind  unreasonably  complain  of  their  nature,  that,  being  weak 
and  short-lived,  it  is  governed  by  chance  rather  than  intellectual  power ; 
for,  on  the  contrary,  you  will  find,  upon  reflection,  that  there  is  nothing 
more  noble  or  excellent,  and  that  to  nature  is  wanting  rather  human 
industry  than  ability  or  time.  .  .  . 

The  depravity  of  those,  therefore,  is  the  more  surprising,  who,  devoted 
to  corporeal  gratifications,  spend  their  lives  in  luxury  and  indolence,  but 
suffer  the  mind,  than  which  nothing  is  better  or  greater  in  man,  to  lan- 
guish in  neglect  and  inactivity  ;  especially  when  there  are  so  many  and 
various  mental  employments  by  which  the  highest  renown  may  be 
attained. 

There,  that  will  do,  surely.  The  disease  of  unreality  which, 
with  the  extinguishment  of  liberty  under  the  emperors, 
was  so  soon  to  attack  Roman  literature  and  make  it  com- 
paratively worthless,  had  already,  in  such  writing  as  this  of 
Sallust's,  begun  to  exhibit  its  premonitory  symptoms.  Sallust 


The  Latiu  Reader.  79 


is  tolerably  genuine  when  he  stops  moralizing  and  com- 
mences narrating.  Still,  he  is  to  be  classed  with  the  romantic, 
rather  than  the  realistic,  with  the  rhetorical,  rather  than 
the  philosophical,  historians.  Our  readers,  when  they  come 
to  study  Caesar's  writings,  will  feel  the  marked  difference  of 
tone  between  the  two. 
Sallust: 

I  am  about  to  relate  the  war  which  the  Roman  people  carried  on  with 
Jugurtha,  King  of  the  Numidians  :  first,  because  it  was  great,  sanguina  y, 
and  of  varied  fortune;  and  secondly,  because  then,  for  the  first  time, 
opposition  was  offered  to  the  power  of  the  nobility ;  a  contest  which 
threw  every  thing,  religious  and  civil,  into  confusion,  and  was  carried  to 
such  a  height  of  madness,  that  nothing  but  war,  and  the  devastation  of 
Italy,  could  put  an  end  to  civil  dissensions.  But  before  I  fairly  com- 
mence my  narrative,  I  will  take  a  review  of  a  few  preceding  particulars, 
in  order  that  the  whole  subject  may  be  more  clearly  and  distinctly  un- 
derstood. 

Sallust's  preliminary  historical  review  recounts  how,  dur- 
ing the  second  Punic  war,  (of  course  before  Jugurtha's  time,) 
the  king  of  the  Numidians  had  rendered  invaluable  aid  to 
the  Romans,  and  been  by  them  rewarded  with  important 
accessions  to  his  kingdom.  The  kingdom  of  Numidia  re- 
mained a  faithful  ally  to  Rome  throughout  that  reign.  The 
succeeding  king,  Mi-cip'sa,  had  two  sons,  and  an  orphan 
nephew  whom  he  brought  up  with  his  two  sons,  in  the  same 
nurture.  This  nephew  was  Jugurtha.  Sallust  portrays  the 
youthful  person  and  character  of  Jugurtha  in  a  few  bold 
strokes,  as  follows  : 

Jugurtha,  as  he  grew  up,  being  strong  in  frame,  graceful  in  person, 
but,  above  all,  vigorous  in  understanding,  did  not  allo\v  himseif  to  be 
enervated  by  pleasure  and  indolence,  but,  as  is  the  usage  of  his  country, 
exercised  himself  in  riding,  throwing  the  javelin,  and  contending  in  the 
race  with  his  equals  in  age ;  and,  though  he  excelled  them  all  in  reputa- 
tion, he  was  yet  beloved  by  all.  He  also  passed  much  of  his  time  in 
hunting ;  he  was  first,  or  among  the  first,  to  wound  the  lion  and  other 
beasts  ;  he  performed  very  much,  but  spoke  very  little  of  himself. 


8o  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in   English. 

Jugurtha  was  quite  too  promising  a  young  fellow  to  leave 
his  patronizing  uncle,  the  king,  at  ease  in  his  own  mind. 
Micipsa  formed  a  sinister  plan  to  make  away  with  so  dan- 
gerous a  competitor  for  succession  to  the  crown.  This  plan 
Sallust  sketches  in  the  following  words : 

He  resolved,  as  Jugurtha  was  of  an  active  disposition  and  eager  for 
military  reputation,  to  expose  him  to  ciangers  in  the  field,  and  thus  make 
trial  of  fortune.  During  the  Numantine  war,  therefore,  when  he  was 
sending  supplies  of  horse  and  foot  to  the  Romans,  he  gave  him  the  com- 
mand of  the  Numidians  whom  he  despatched  into  Spain,  hoping  that  he 
would  certainly  perish,  either  by  an  ostentatious  display  of  his  bravery, 
or  by  the  merciless  hand  of  the  enemy. 

The  result  was  sadly  disappointing.  Jugurtha  not  merely 
survived  his  dangers,  but  he  made  himself  famous.  The 
king,  with  great  good  sense,  adjusted  himself  to  circum- 
stances which  he  could  not  control,  and  adopted  the  youth 
as  his  son. 

A  few  years  after,  the  aged  Micipsa,  about  to  die,  makes 
a  death-bed  address,  full  of  affectionate  wisdom,  to  his  sons 
and  his  nephew.  Sallust  reproduces  it  for  us  at  length, 
much  as  if  there  had  been  a  short-hand  reporter  present  to 
take  down  word  after  word  falling  from  the  old  man's  lips. 
This  is  Sallust's  fashion  in  historical  composition.  He  herein 
imitates  his  master  Thucydides.  Our  readers  shall,  in  due 
time,  have  a  specimen  of  the  speeches  that  Sallust  constructs 
for  the  persons  of  his  drama.  But  we  will  skip  the  dying 
Micipsa's  farewell  address,  in  favor  of  an  harangue,  to  come 
later,  from  no  less  a  character  than  Caius  Manus  himself. 

To  his  uncle's  exhortations,  Jugurtha,  all  the  while  secretly 
feeling  that  they  were  insincerely  spoken,  schools  himself  to 
make  a  dutiful  reply.  In  a  few  days,  Micipsa  dies.  The 
real  state  of  feeling  among  the  king's  three  heirs  was  prompt 
in  declaring  itself.  They  quarreled,  and  Jugurtha  got  his 
kinsman,  Hi-emp'sal,  treacherously  killed. 

The  surviving  brother,  Ad-her'bal,  defeated  in  a  battle  joined 


The  Latin  Reader.  Si 


by  him  with  Jugurtha  in  defense  of  his  right,  fled  a  suppliant 
to  Rome.  Sallust  gives  us  the  really  eloquent  and  pathetic, 
if  rather  elaborate,  speech  in  which  he  pleaded  before  the 
Roman  senate.  But  Jugurtha  pleaded  with  money,  instead 
of  with  eloquence  and  pathos,  and  the  Roman  senate  ad- 
judged Jugurtha  the  better  orator  of  the  two.  It  is  a  shame- 
ful story,  as  Sallust,  probably  with  substantial  truth,  relates  it. 
Sallust,  to  be  sure,  writes  as  a  thorough-going  partisan  of 
Cagsar,  by  espousing  whose  cause  he  had  come  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  present  enormous  ill-gotten  wealth.  Now  Cassar 
was  one  party,  and  the  Roman  senate  another.  Whatever, 
therefore,  tended  to  exhibit  the  unworthiness  of  the  senate 
tended,  so  far,  to  justify  Coesar's  usurpation  of  power.  But 
the  senate  was,  it  must,  no  doubt,  be  confessed,  an  oligarchy 
grown,  already  in  Jugurtha's  time,  incredibly  corrupt.  Sub- 
sequently somewhat  revived  in  virtue,  it  suffered  however  a 
relapse  worse  than  the  original  disease.  Caesar,  unquestion- 
ably, fou»d  a  senate  invested  with  no  moral  right,  subsist- 
ing in  the  character  of  its  members,  to  administer  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  world. 

There  follows  now,  in  Sallust's  text,  a  little  digression  on 
the  geography  of  Africa  in  general,  which  it  will  do  for  us 
wholly  to  omit.  It  is  not  usual  to  see  editions  of  Sallust's 
"Jugurthine  War"  illustrated  with  a  map  of  the  regions  con- 
cerned. In  truth,  there  is  some  degree  of  geographical,  as 
well  as  chronological,  vagueness  in  Sallust's  history — a  trait 
which  may  not  unfairly  be  taken  to  mark  the  less  strictly 
verifiable  historical  character  of  the  work,  in  comparison 
with  Caesar's  Commentaries,  for  instance. 

The  kingdom  of  Numidia  was,  by  interference  from  Rome, 
divided  between  the  two  claimants,  Jugurtha  getting  the  lion's 
share.  Jugurtha  was  now  convinced  that  he  could  buy 
whatever  he  wanted  at  Rome.  He  proceeded,  accordingly, 
with  a  high  hand,  to  encroach  on  the  rights  of  his  brother 
Adherbal.  The  two  fought,  and  Adherbal  was  worsted. 
4* 


82  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Jugurtha  has  no  difficulty  in  ridding  himself  of  three  young 
Romans  sent  to  him  and  to  Adherbal,  as  ambassadors  from 
the  mistress  of  nations,  to  enjoin  concord  between  the  two 
contending  kinsmen.  These  outwitted  deputies  get  no 
chance  whatever  at  the  ear  of  Adherbal.  Jugurtha  professes 
profound  respect  for  the  authority  of  the  Roman  senate, 
promises  to  send  soon  to  Rome  an  embassy  who  shall  ex- 
plain his  conduct  satisfactorily,  and  so  speeds  the  youthful 
diplomatists  home,  carrying  with  them  barren  fair  words 
from  the  wily  usurper,  as  the  sole  fruit  of  their  mission  to 
Africa.  These  ambassadors  were  no  sooner  well  out  of  the 
country,  than  Jugurtha  besieged  Adherbal  in  Cirta  with  the 
utmost  energy.  Adherbal  found  means  to  send  by  messen- 
gers an  urgent  appeal  to  Rome,  which,  however,  Jugurtha's 
partisans  in  the  city  took  care  should  bring  about  no  more 
serious  result  than  the  dispatch  of  a  fresh  embassy  to  Africa. 

This  time  it  is  a  deputation  extremely  reverend  by  age,  by 
birth,  by  political  influence,  in  the  persons  composing  it. 
Arrived  at  Utica,  (the  African  town  subsequently  to  be  made 
so  memorable  by  the  tragic  suicide  of  Cato,  refusing  to  sur- 
vive the  republic,)  these  men  of  dignity  summon  Jugurtha 
by  letter  to  meet  them  there.  Instead  of  promptly  obeying 
this  august  behest,  Jugurtha  redoubled  his  efforts  to  capture 
Cirta.  Not  succeeding,  he  took  counsel  of  his  prudence, 
and,  though  without  raising  the  siege,  went  tardily  to  meet 
the  Roman  ambassadors.  These  upbraided  his  contumacy, 
threatened  him  gravely  in  the  name  of  the  senate,  but  retired 
without  finally  getting  Jugurtha  to  yield.  In  this  state  of 
things  Adherbal,  overpowered  by  the  persuasions  of  others, 
made  a  reluctant  surrender  to  Jugurtha.  Jugurtha  put  Ad- 
herbal to  death  with  torture,  and  massacred  indiscriminately 
all  the  grown-up  inhabitants  of  the  town. 

This  audacious  proceeding  on  Jugurtha's  part  raised  a 
storm  of  indignation  at  Rome,  which,  however,  under  the 
pacifying  influence  of  the  Numidian  conqueror's  money, 


77ie  La  fin  Reader.  83 

seemed  likely  to  be  laid,  till,  as  Sallust  represents  it,  an  elo- 
quent and  energetic  tribune  of  the  people,  rousing  the  public 
to  perceive  the  perfidious  venality  of  the  senate,  compelled 
that  body  to  move  in  a  serious  demonstration  against  the 
designs  of  Jugurtha.  Cal  pur'ni-us,  one  of  the  consuls  next 
elected,  was  sent  with  an  army  into  Africa.  With  him  went 
Scaurus,  described  as  an  astute,  but  corrupt,  politician  of 
great  influence  at  Rome. 

Calpurnius  made  a  spirited  beginning  of  war,  but  Jugurtha 
met  him  with  weapons  of  silver  and  gold  that  Calpurnius 
could  not  resist.  Scaurus,  too,  was  bought  with  a  great  sum 
of  money.  The  issue  was  that,  Jugurtha  having  been  per- 
mitted to  make  a  merely  nominal  surrender,  the  consul  went 
back  to  Rome  and  left  Numidia  at  peace. 

But  that  same  tribune  of  the  people,  Caius  Memmius  by 
name,  again  excited  the  people  to  withstand  the  shameful 
corruption  of  the  senate  and  nobles.  Sallust  takes  occasion 
to  supply  in  full  one  of  this  enterprising  orator's  popular 
harangues.  It  is,  of  course,  Sallust  in  form  and  in  spirit, 
though  it  may  in  substance  be  Memmius.  It  is  only  fair, 
however,  to  the  historian  to  say  that  he  here,  as  usual,  gives 
his  reader  the  hint  not  to  expect  from  him  word-for-word 
icporting.  He  introduces  the  speech  of  Memmius,  not  as 
"  the  following  speech,"  but  as  "  a  speech  of  the  following 
kind." 

The  eloquence  of  Memmius  had  its  effect.  Lucius  Cas- 
sius,  a  man  of  stainless  fame  for  probity,  was  sent  to  bring 
Jugurtha,  under  pledge  of  the  public  faith  for  his  safety,  to 
Rome.  The  thing  aimed  at  was  to  get  Jugurtha's  testimony 
for  the  conviction  of  those — Scaurus  and  the  rest — who  had 
been  guilty  of  taking  bribes.  Sallust  himself  again  : 

Jugurtha,  accordingly,  accompanied  Cassius  to  Rome,  but  without  any 
mark  of  royalty,  and  in  the  garb,  as  much  as  possible,  of  a  suppliant;  and, 
though  he  felt  great  confidence  on  his  own  part,  and  was  supported  by 
all  those  through  whose  power  or  villainy  he  had  accomplished  his 


84  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


projects,  he  purchased,  by  a  vast  bribe,  the  aid  of  Caius  Bse'bi-us,  a  trib- 
une of  the  people,  by  whose  audacity  he  hoped  to  be  protected  against 
the  law,  and  against  all  harm. 

Advised  by  Baebius,  Jugurtha  faced  the  angry  assembly 
of  the  Roman  people,  and  triumphantly  refused  to  testify 
against  those  who  had  been  bribed  by  him. 

There  was  at  this  time  in  Rome  a  Numidian  refugee,  of 
blood  nearly  enough  royal  to  give  him  some  color  of  claim  to 
the  throne'  of  the  kingdom.  Mas-si'va  was  his  name,  and 
this  Massiva  was  by  one  of  the  consuls  for  that  year  pur- 
suaded  to  petition  the  senate  for  the  Numidian  crown.  Al- 
bi'nus,  the  instigating  consul,  was  a  restless  spirit  who  wished 
to  enjoy  the  chance  of  distinguishing  himself  in  a  war. 

The  result  was  fatal  to  the  Numidian  aspirant.  Resource- 
ful and  unscrupulous  Jugurtha  procured  his  assassination. 
Soon  after,  having  first  sent  off  the  assassin  in  safety,  not- 
withstanding that  he  had  given  fifty  of  his  own  friends  in 
bail  for  that  criminal's  appearance,  he  withdrew  himself  from 
Rome,  saying  as  he  looked  back  at  the  place,  "  A  venal  city, 
could  it  but  find  a  purchaser!"  What  became  of  Jugur- 
tha's  fifty  sureties  for  his  friend  the  assassin,  Sallust  does 
not  inform  us ! 

The  war  was  renewed,  but  Jugurtha  avoided  decisive  en- 
gagements, and,  full  of  shifts,  protracted  the  campaign  until 
people  began  to  say,  "Albinus,  too,  is  a  traitor."  Faith  in 
public  virtue  was  almost  extinct. 

Albinus  finally  went  home,  leaving  his  brother  Aulus  to 
act  in  his  place.  Aulus  was  seized  with  the  desire  to  do  a 
conspicuous  stroke  of  business.  In  midwinter,  he  went  to 
the  town  in  which  Jugurtha's  treasures  were  deposited,  and 
absurdly  attempted  to  take  it  by  siege.  Jugurtha,  playing 
with  this  Roman's  vanity  and  weakness,  soon  had  him  com- 
pletely in  his  power.  The  end  was  that  a  Roman  army  was 
reduced  to  the  disgrace  of  passing  under  the  yoke.  The 
condition  of  their  being  permitted  to  escape  alive  and  free, 


The  Latin  Reader.  8s 


was  that  they  should  quit  Numidia  within  ten  days.  On 
such  hard  terms,  they  were  admitted  to  treaty  with  the  con- 
queror. 

Now  is  illustrated  the  unscrupulous  policy  of  Rome. 
Albinus  consulted  the  senate  on  the  subject  of  the  treaty. 
The  senate  ("  as  was  just,"  Sallust  calmly  remarks)  decreed 
that  "  no  treaty  could  be  made  without  their  own  consent 
and  that  of  the  people."  In  other  words,  apparently,  Rome 
accepted  the  advantage  and  repudiated  the  price  at  which 
the  advantage  was  bought. 

Sallust  at  this  point  enters  into  a  striking  and  instructive 
exposition  of  the  state  of  parties  at  Rome.  This  we  must 
leave,  and  leap  forward  to  the  story  of  the  campaign  against 
Jugurtha  conducted  by  Metellus.  Metellus  was,  according 
to  Sallust,  a  man  of  talent  and  character.  He  restored  the 
discipline  of  the  Roman  army,  and  made  such  head  against 
Jugurtha  that  this  prince  was  fain,  or  at  least  feigned  to  be 
fain,  to  make  a  surrender.  But  the  Roman  was  now  willing 
to  try  a  match  in  duplicity  with  the  Numidian.  Let  Sallust 
himself  report  a  few  moves  in  this  extraordinary  game  at 
mutual  deceit — a  game,  we  are  bound  to  say,  in  which  all  the 
really  unquestionable  deceit  is  on  the  Roman's  side  : 

Jugurtha  sent  deputies  to  the  consul  with  proposals  of  submission, 
stipulating  only  for  his  own  life  and  that  of  his  children,  and  offering  to 
surrender  every  thing  else  to  the  Romans.  But  Metellus  had  already 
learned  by  experience  that  the  Numidians  were  a  faithless  race,  of  un- 
settled disposition,  and  fond  of  change;  and  he  accordingly  applied 
himself  to  each  of  the  deputies  separately,  and  after  gradually  sounding 
them,  and  finding  them  proper  instruments  for  his  purpose,  prevailed 
on  them,  by  large  promises,  to  deliver  Jugurtha  into  his  hands  ;  bring- 
ing him  alive,  if  they  could,  or  dead,  if  to  take  him  alive  should  be  im- 
practicable. In  public,  however,  he  directed  that  such  an  answer 
should  be  given  to  the  king  as  would  be  agreeable  to  his  wishes. 

A  few  days  afterward,  he  led  the  army,  which  was  now  vigorous 
and  resolute,  into  Numidia,  where,  instead  of  any  appearance  of  war, 
he  found  the  cottages  full  of  people,  and  the  cattle  and  laborers  in  the 
fields,  while  the  officers  of  Jugurtha  came  from  the  towns  and  villages  to 


86  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

meet  him,  offering  to  supply  him  with  corn,  to  convey  provisions  for 
him,  and  to  do  whatever  might  be  required  of  them.  Metellus,  not- 
withstanding, made  no  diminution  in  the  caution  with  which  he  marched, 
but  kept  as  much  on  the  defensive  as  if  an  enemy  had  been  at  hand  ; 
and  he  dispatched  scouts  to  explore  the  country,  thinking  that  these  signs 
of  submission  were  but  pretense,  and  that  the  Numidians  were  watching 
an  opportunity  for  treachery.  .  .  .  Such  was  the  subtlety  of  Jugurtha,  and 
such  his  knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  art  of  war,  that  it  was  doubt- 
ful whether  he  was  more  formidable  absent  or  present,  offering  peace  or 
threatening  hostilities.  .  .  . 

In  the  midst  of  these  proceedings,  Jugurtha,  with  extraordinary  ear- 
nestness, sent  deputies  to  sue  for  peace,  offering  to  resign  every  thing  to 
Metellus,  except  his  own  life  and  that  of  his  children.  These,  like  the 
former,  the  consul  first  seduced  to  treachery,  and  then  sent  back  ;  the 
peace  which  Jugurtha  asked,  he  neither  granted  nor  refused,  but  waited, 
during  these  delays,  the  performance  of  the  deputies'  promises. 

Tugurtha,  on  comparing  the  words  of  Metellus  with  his  actions,  per- 
ceived that  he  was  assailed  with  his  own  artifices ;  for  though  peace  was 
offered  him  in  words,  a  most  vigorous  war  was  in  reality  pursued  against 
him  ;  one  of  his  strongest  cities  was  wrested  from  him  ;  his  country  was 
explored  by  the  enemy,  and  the  affections  of  his  subjects  alienated.  Be- 
ing compelled,  therefore,  by  the  necessity  of  circumstances,  he  resolved 
to  try  the  fortune  of  a  battle. 

The  incidents  of  the  battle  finally  joined  between  the  two 
armies,  and  of  the  siege  that  followed,  of  the  town  of  Zama, 
are  highly  interesting.  It  is  a  pity  that  the  limits  of  our 
space  forbid  our  giving  them  at  large  in  Sallust's  own  words. 
The  fortune  of  war  wavers  in  exciting  vicissitudes,  but  on 
the  whole  inclines  in  favor  of  the  Romans.  The  fame  of 
Metellus  rises  high  at  Rome.  Caius  Marius,  as  a  lieutenant 
of  the  general,  becomes  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  story. 
He  will  presently  as  consul  succeed  to  the  chief  command 
against  Jugurtha. 

The  siege  of  Zama,  Metellus  had  to  raise.  The  period  of 
military  inaction  enforced  by  the  winter  season,  this  Roman 
general  (praised,  though  a  senatorial  aristocrat,  by  Sallust, 
as  being  a  man  of  honor)  "did  not,"  so  the  rigid  historian, 
mindful  of  his  moral,  remarks,  "  like  other  commanders, 


The  Latin  Reader.  87 


abandon  to  idleness  and  luxury."  But  the  account  of  high- 
minded  Metellus's  winter  activity  in  war  must  be  set  before 
our  readers  in  the  translated  text  of  the  original  writer  him- 
self. Sallust  says : 

Metellus,  as  the  war  had  been  but  slowly  advanced  by  fighting,  re- 
solved to  try  the  effect  of  treachery  on  the  king  through  his  friends, 
and  to  employ  their  perfidy  instead  of  arms.  He  accordingly  ad- 
dressed himself,  with  large  promises,  to  Bo-mil'car,  the  same  noble- 
man who  had  been  with  Jugurtha  at  Rome,  and  who  liad  fled  from 
thence,  notwithstanding  he  had  given  bail,  to  escape  being  tried 
for  the  murder  of  Massiva  ;  selecting  this  person  for  his  instrument,  be- 
cause, from  his  great  intimacy  with  Jugurtha,  he  had  the  best  opportu- 
nities of  betraying  him.  He  prevailed  on  him,  in  the  first  place,  to 
come  to  a  conference  with  him  privately,  when,  having  given  him  his 
word,  "  that,  if  he  should  deliver  up  Jugurtha,  alive  or  dead,  the  senate 
would  grant  him  a  pardon,  and  the  full  possession  of  his  property,"  he 
easily  brought  him  over  to  his  purpose,  especially  as  he  was  naturally 
faithless,  and  also  apprehensive  that,  if  peace  were  made  with  the  Ro- 
mans, he  himself  would  be  surrendered  to  justice  by  the  terms  of  it. 

Bomilcar  took  advantage  of  a  time  when  Jugurtha  was  in 
low  spirits  and  got  him  to  offer  a  surrender.  Metellus  re- 
quired of  him  to  give  up  200,000  pounds'  weight  of  silver, 
with  his  elephants  and  a  portion  of  his  horses  and  arms. 
This  done,  all  the  deserters  then  were  demanded,  to  be 
brought  in  chains.  The  next  thing  exacted  was  that  Ju- 
gurtha should  surrender  his  own  person. 

The  war  with  Jugurtha  was,  however,  still  not  ended. 
But  before  resuming  the  narrative  of  warlike  operations, 
Sallust,  with  a  few  graphic  and  powerful  strokes,  paints  Caius 
Marius  into  his  canvas  : 

About  the  same  time,  as  Caius  Marius,  who  happened  to  be  at  Utica, 
was  sacrificing  to  the  gods,  an  augur  told  him  that  great  and  wonderful 
things  were  presaged  to  him  ;  that  he  might  therefore  pursue  whatever 
designs  he  had  formed,  trusting  to  the  gods  for  success  ;  and  that  he 
might  try  fortune  as  often  as  he  pleased,  for  that  all  his  undertakings 
would  prosper.  Previously  to  this  period,  an  ardent  longing  for  tho 
consulship  had  possessed  him  ;  and  he  had,  indeed,  every  qualification 


88  Preparatory  Latin  Course   in  English. 


for  obtaining  it,  except  antiquity  of  family  ;  he  had  industry,  integrity, 
great  knowledge  of  war,  and  a  spirit  undaunted  in  the  field  ;  he  was 
temperate  in  private  life,  superior  to  pleasure  and  riches,  and  ambitious 
only  of  glory.  Having  been  born  at  Ar-pi'num,  and  brought  up  there  dur- 
ing his  boyhood,  he  employed  himself,  as  soon  as  he  was  of  age  to  bear 
arms,  not  in  the  study  of  Greek  eloquence,  nor  in  learning  the  refinements 
of  the  city,  but  in  military  service  ;  and  thus,  amid  the  strictest  discipline, 
his  excellent  genius  soon  attained  full  vigor.  When  he  solicited  the 
people,  therefore,  for  the  military  tribuneship,  he  was  well  known  by 
name,  though  most  were  strangers  to  his  face,  and  unanimously  elected 
by  the  tribes.  After  this  office  he  attained  others  in  succession,  and 
conducted  himself  so  well  in  his  public  duties  that  he  was  always 
deemed  worthy  of  a  higher  station  than  he  had  reached.  Yet,  though 
such  had  been  his  character  hitherto,  (for  he  was  afterward  carried  away 
by  ambition,)  he  had  not  ventured  to  stand  for  the  consulship.  The 
people,  at  that  time,  still  disposed  of  other  civil  offices,  but  the 
nobility  transmitted  the  consulship  from  hand  to  hand  among  them- 
selves. Nor  had  any  commoner  appeared,  however  famous  or  distin- 
guished by  his  achievements,  who  would  not  have  been  thought  un- 
worthy of  that  honor,  and,  as  it  were,  a  disgrace  to  it. 

The  people  of  Vacca,  a  town  which  Metellus  had  garri- 
soned, Jugurtha  succeeded  in  inducing  to  return  to  their 
allegiance  to  himself.  The  Vaccans,  through  base  treachery, 
put  the  Roman  garrison  to  death.  Two  days  after,  Metellus 
arrived  before  the  town.  The  inhabitants,  seeing  his  van- 
guard of  Numidian  cavalry,  said,  'It  is  Jugurtha,'  and  went 
out  joyfully  to  meet  their  king.  The  wretched  city,  de- 
scribed as  great  and  opulent,  was  given  over  to  pillage.  The 
only  Roman  that,  in  the  massacre  of  ten  days  before,  had 
escaped  the  violence  of  the  Numidians,  was  put  on  his  trial 
by  Metellus.  This  was  Tur-pil'i-us,  the  commander  of  the 
garrison.  Not  answering  satisfactorily  how  it  chanced  that 
he  himself  survived  alone,  the  unhappy  man  was  scourged 
and  executed.  Such  was  Roman  discipline. 

There  was  plot,  and  there  was  plot  within  plot.  Bomilcar 
had  seduced  Jugurtha's  trusted  friend,  Nab-dal'sa,  to  join 
him  in  his  designs  against  their  common  master.  Nabdalsa 


The  Latin  Reader.  89 


had  an  attack  of  misgiving.  Bomilcar  sent  him  a  tonic  let- 
ter. This  letter  the  recipient  left  on  his  pillow,  as  he  sank 
into  a  sleep  of  exhaustion.  His  trusted  friend  found  the 
letter,  and  made  all  haste  to  carry  it  to  Jugurtha.  Jugur- 
tha  put  Bomilcar  with  others  to  death  The  Numidian 
prince's  state  of  mind  and  way  of  life,  resulting,  are  power- 
fully described  by  Sallust : 

After  this  occurrence  he  had  no  peace  either  by  day  or  by  night ;  he 
thought  himself  safe  neither  in  any  place,  nor  with  any  person,  nor  at 
any  time  ;  he  feared  his  subjects  and  his  enemies  alike  ;  he  was  always 
on  the  watch,  and  was  startled  at  every  sound  ;  he  passed  the  night 
sometimes  in  one  place,  and  sometimes  in  another,  and  often  in  places 
little  suited  to  royal  dignity  ;  and  sometimes,  starting  from  his  sleep,  he 
would  seize  his  arms,  and  raise  an  alarm.  He  was,  indeed,  so  agitated 
by  extreme  terror  that  he  appeared  under  the  influence  of  madness. 

Metellus  now  renews  with  zeal  the  prosecution  of  the  war, 
and  Jugurtha  is  driven  to  extremity.  Marius  is  excused  to 
go  to  Rome  and  stand  for  the  consulship.  He  is  elected. 
Meantime,  however,  Metellus,  having  defeated  Jugurtha  in  a 
battle,  follows  his  retreating  foe  across  a  desert  fifty  miles 
wide,  to  a  city  which  he  finally  invests  and  takes.  But  the  prize 
of  war,  irrepressible  Jugurtha  himself,  has  escaped,  carrying 
with  him  a  large  part  of  his  treasure.  The  town  is  found  by 
its  captors  to  be  an  empty  mass  of  ruin.  It  had  been  de- 
fended by  Romans — Roman  deserters  to  Jugurtha.  These 
men  could  hope  for  no  mercy  from  their  conquerors.  Sallust 
thus  tells  how  they  perished ;  it  is  a  frightful  tale,  but  the 
historian  wastes  no  sentiment  in  telling  it : 

When  they  [the  Roman  deserters  defending  the  town]  saw  the  walls 
shaken  by  the  battering-ram,  and  their  own  situation  desperate,  they  had 
conveyed  the  gold  and  silver,  and  whatever  else  is  esteemed  valuable,  to 
the  royal  palace,  where,  after  being  sated  with  wine  and  luxuries,  they 
destroyed  the  treasures,  the  building,  and  themselves  by  fire,  and  thus 
voluntarily  submitted  to  the  sufferings  which,  in  case  of  being  conquered, 
they  dreaded  at  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 


90  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Jugurtha  was  inexhaustible  of  resources.  He  went  now 
to  the  Ge-tu'li-ans,  a  savage  African  tribe,  and  enlisted  recruits 
whom  he  trained  to  be  soldiers.  King  Bocchus,  too,  the 
Mau'ri-ta'ni-an  king,  was  approached  by  Jugurtha,  who  finally 
induced  this  monarch,  his  own  father-in-law,  to  make  com- 
mon cause  with  himself  against  Rome.  In  the  midst  of  prep- 
arations, on  his  part,  to  meet  these  confederates,  Metellus 
was  advised  from  Rome  that  Marius  had  already  been  ap- 
pointed his  successor  in  the  war.  The  proud  spirit  broke  at 
this  humiliation.  Metellus  wept. 

Marius,  still  in  Rome,  was  drunk  with  natural  wild  tem- 
perament and  with  success.  He  carried  every  thing  before 
him.  The  haughty  senate  was  at  his  feet.  He  spurned 
them  in  a  speech  to  the  people  which  Sallust  constructs  for 
him  as  follows  (we  abridge) : 

I  am  aware,  my  fellow-citizens,  that  most  men  do  not  appear  as  can- 
didates before  you  for  an  office,  and  conduct  themselves  in  it  when  they 
have  obtained  it,  under  the  same  character  ;  that  they  are  at  first 
industrious,  humble,  and  modest,  but  afterward  lead  a  life  of  indo- 
lence and  arrogance.  But  to  me  it  appears  that  the  contrary  should  be 
the  case.  .  .  . 

If  others  fail  in  their  undertakings,  their  ancient  rank,  the  heroic  ac- 
tions of  their  ancestors,  the  power  of  their  relatives  and  connections,  their 
numerous  dependents  are  all  at  hand  to  support  them  ;  but  as  for  me, 
my  whole  hopes  rest  upon  myself,  which  I  must  sustain  by  good  conduct 
and  integrity  ;  for  all  other  means  are  unavailing.  .  .  . 

You  have  commanded  me  to  carry  on  the  war  against  Jugurtha ;  a 
commission  at  which  the  nobility  are  highly  offended.  Consider  with 
yourselves,  I  pray  you,  whether  it  would  be  a  change  for  the  better  if 
you  were  to  send  to  this,  or  to  any  other  such  appointment,  one  of  yon- 
der crowd  of  nobles,  a  man  of  ancient  family,  of  innumerable  statues, 
and  of  no  military  experience.  .  .  . 

Compare  now,  my  fellow-citizens,  me,  who  am  a  new  man,  with  those 
haughty  nobles.  What  they  have  but  heard  or  read,  I  have  witnessed  or 
performed.  What  they  have  learned  from  books,  I  have  acquired  in  the 
fit^ld  ;  and  whether  deeds  or  words  are  of  greater  estimation,  it  is  for 
you  to  consider.  They  despise  my  humbleness  of  birth  ;  I  contemn  their 
imbecility.  .  .  . 


The  Latin  Reader.  91 


My  speech,  they  say,  is  inelegant ;  but  that  I  have  ever  thought  of  little 
importance.  Worth  sufficiently  displays  itself;  it  is  for  my  detractors  to 
use  studied  language,  that  they  may  palliate  base  conduct  by  plausible 
•words.  Nor  have  I  learned  Greek  ;  for  I  had  no  wish  to  acquire  a 
tongue  that  adds  nothing  to  the  valor  of  those  who  teach  it.  But  I  have 
gained  other  accomplishments,  such  as  are  of  the  utmost  benefit  to  a 
state :  I  have  learned  to  strike  down  an  enemy ;  to  be  vigilant  at  my 
post;  to  fear  nothing  but  dishonor;  to  bear  cold  and  heat  with  equal 
endurance;  to  sleep  on  the  ground;  and  to  sustain  n.t  the  same  time 
hunger  and  fatigue.  And  with  such  rules  of  conduct  I  shall  stimulate 
my  soldiers,  not  treating  them  with  rigor  and  myself  with  indulgence, 
nor  making  their  toils  my  glory.  Such  a  mode  of  commanding  is  at  once 
useful  to  the  state,  and  becoming  to  a  citizen.  For  to  coerce  your  troops 
with  severity,  while  you  yourself  live  at  ease,  is  to  be  a  tyrant,  not  a 
general.  .  .  . 

Such  of  you,  then,  as  are  of  military  age,  co-operate  with  me,  and 
support  the  cause  of  your  country  ;  and  let  no  discouragement,  from  the 
ill-fortune  of  others,  or  the  arrogance  of  the  late  commanders,  affect  any 
one  of  you.  I  myself  shall  be  with  you,  both  on  the  march  and  in  the 
battle,  both  to  direct  your  movements  and  to  share  your  dangers.  I 
shall  treat  you  and  myself  on  every  occasion  alike  ;  and,  doubtless,  with 
the  aid  of  the  gods,  all  good  things,  victory,  spoil,  and  glory,  are  ready 
to  our  hands  ;  though,  even  if  they  were  doubtful  or  distant,  it  would 
still  become  every  able  citizen  to  act  in  defense  of  his  country.  For  no 
man,  by  slothful  timidity,  has  escaped  the  lot  of  mortals  ;  nor  has  any 
parent  wished  for  his  children  that  they  might  live  forever,  but  rather 
that  they  might  act  in  life  with  virtue  and  honor.  I  would  add  more, 
my  fellow-citizens,  if  words  could  give  courage  to  the  faint-hearted ;  to 
the  brave  I  think  I  have  said  enough. 

Marius  easily  raised  a  great  army.  Every  body  was  eager 
to  be  a  soldier  under  the  idolized  hero  of  the  hour.  The 
two  confederate  kings,  Jugurtha  and  Bocchus,  retired  differ- 
ent ways  before  the  Roman  general.  But  Marius  was  not  to 
be  beguiled.  He  did  not  disperse  his  forces,  and  he  did  not 
relax  his  discipline.  He  had  begun  by  whetting  the  appetite 
of  his  soldiers  with  maddening  tastes  of  plunder.  He  cap- 
tured places,  and  gave  up  the  booty  to  his  men.  He  was 
rapidly  making  for  himself  an  army  after  his  own  heart — as 
fierce  as  brave,  and  as  greedy  as  fierce.  Soon  he  aimed  at 


9  2  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  most  difficult,  at  the  apparently  impossible.  He  would 
take  Capsa,  a  city  great  and  strong,  surrounded  by  deserts 
vast  in  extent,  destitute  of  water,  and  infested  with  wild 
beasts  and  with  venomous  serpents.  Through  these  waste 
tracts  Marius  marched  his  men  by  night.  Three  nights  they 
thus  pressed  on.  He  had  provided  water-bottles,  made  from 
the  skins  of  cattle  killed  on  the  way  for  food.  These  water- 
bottles,  filled  from  the  last  river,  were  the  only  baggage  that 
was  carried  by  man  or  beast.  The  impossible  was  achieved. 
Capsa  was  surprised  and  taken.  The  grown-up  inhabitants 
were  all  butchered. 

The  rest  were  sold,  and  the  spoil  divided  among  the  soldiers.  This 
severity,  in  violation  [as  Sallust  rather  unexpectedly  remarks]  of  the 
usages  of  war,  was  not  adopted  from  avarice  or  cruelty  in  the  consul,  but 
was  exercised  because  the  place  was  of  great  advantage  to  Jugurtha,  and 
difficult  of  access  to  us,  while  the  inhabitants  were  a  fickle  and  faithless 
race,  to  be  influenced  neither  by  kindness  nor  by  terror. 

The  effect  of  such  success  on  the  part  of  Marius  was  to 
make  him  almost  a  god  in  the  eyes  of  both  friends  and  foes. 
Thenceforward,  a  fine  saying  of  Virgil's,  by  him  applied  to  a 
comparatively  trivial  occasion,  will  be  true  in  this  war  for 
Marius.  He  will  be  able,  for  he  will  seem  to  be  able.  The 
next  great  incident  in  his  campaign  furnishes  an  illustration. 

Marius  had  undertaken  a  second  well-nigh  impossible  feat. 
It  was  not  prospering.  But  again  his  good  fortune  befriended 
him.  By  mere  chance,  as  it  seemed,  a  Li-gu'ri-an  soldier  dis- 
covered one  particular  spot  at  which  it  was  practicable  for  a 
few  bold  men  to  effect  an  entrance  into  an  otherwise  im- 
pregnably  defended  town  of  the  Numidians,  which,  to  all 
previous  appearance  vainly,  Marius  was  besieging.  The  en- 
trance was  effected  and  the  town  was  Marius's.  The  very 
imprudence  of  his  attempt  redounded  to  his  glory — for 
the  imprudent  attempt  was  successful.  The  incident  of  the 
Ligurian's  individual  enterprise  is  a  pleasing  relief  and  orna- 
ment embroidered  upon  the  general  text  of  the  history. 


The  Latin  Reader.  93 


Another  celebrated  character  here  enters  upon  the  scene 
of  Sallusl's  story,  to  play  a  brilliant,  though  a  subordinate, 
part.  The  player  of  a  second  part  now,  this  man  is  destined 
in  the  sequel  to  drive  Marius  himself  off  the  stage.  It  is 
no  other  than  Lucius  Sylla,  the  future  dictator  of  Rome. 
Sallust  is  not  reluctant  to  illustrate  his  page  with  a  strong 
portrait  in  words  of  this  remarkable  man.  Our  readers 
must  see  the  delineation,  unchanged  except  as  translated. 
And  here  it  is  : 

Sylla,  then,  was  of  patrician  descent,  but  of  a  family  almost  sunk  in 
obscurity  by  the  degeneracy  of  his  forefathers.  He  was  skilled,  equally 
and  profoundly,  in  Greek  and  Roman  literature.  He  was  a  man  of  large 
mind,  fond  of  pleasure,  but  fonder  of  glory.  His  leisure  was  spent  in 
luxurious  gratifications,  but  pleasure  never  kept  him  from  his  duties, 
except  that  he  might  have  acted  more  for  his  honor  with  regard  to  his 
wife.  He  was  eloquent  and  subtle,  and  lived  on  the  easiest  terms  with 
his  friends.  His  depth  of  thought  in  disguising  his  intentions  was  in- 
credible. He  was  liberal  of  most  things,  but  especially  of  money.  And 
though  he  was  the  most  fortunate  of  all  men  before  his  victory  in  the 
civil  war,  yet  his  fortune  was  never  beyond  his  desert ;  and  many  have 
expressed  a  doubt  whether  his  success  or  his  merit  were  the  greater.  As 
to  his  subsequent  acts,  I  know  not  whether  more  of  shame  or  of  regret 
must  be  felt  at  the  recital  of  them. 

When  Sylla  came  with  his  cavalry  into  Africa,  as  has  just  been  stated, 
and  arrived  at  the  camp  of  Marius,  though  he  had  hitherto  been  un- 
skilled and  undisciplined  in  the  art  of  war,  he  became,  in  a  short  time, 
the  most  expert  of  the  whole  army.  He  was,  besides,  affable  to  the  sol- 
diers ;  he  conferred  favors  on  many  at  their  request,  and  on  others  of  his 
own  accord,  and  was  reluctant  to  receive  any  in  return.  But  he  repaid 
other  obligations  more  readily  than  those  of  a  pecuniary  nature  ;  he 
himself  demanded  repayment  from  no  one,  but  rather  made  it  his  object 
that  as  many  as  possible  should  be  indebted  to  him.  He  conversed, 
jocosely  as  well  as  seriously,  with  the  humblest  of  the  soldiers  ;  he  was 
their  frequent  companion  at  their  works,  on  the  march,  and  on  guard. 
Nor  did  he  ever,  as  is  usual  with  depraved  ambition,  attempt  to  injure 
the  character  of  the  consul,  or  of  any  deserving  person.  His  sole  aim, 
whether  in  the  council  or  the  field,  was  to  suffer  none  to  excel  him  ;  to 
most  he  was  superior.  By  such  conduct  he  soon  became  a  favorite  both 
with  Marius  and  with  the  army. 


94  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Marius  was  marching  to  winter-quarters,  when  one  day, 
just  before  dark,  the  combined  armies  of  the  two  kings,  Ju- 
gurtha  and  Bocchus,  suddenly  fell  upon  him.  It  was  a  com- 
plete surprise.  What  happened  illustrates  so  well  the  ac- 
count given  in  a  previous  chapter,  of  the  discipline  and  valor 
of  Roman  legionaries,  that  we  present  the  narrative  in  Sal- 
lust's  own  words,  simply  making  a  few  silent  omissions  neces- 
sary for  economy  of  space  : 

Before  the  troops  could  either  form  themselves  or  collect  the  baggage, 
before  they  could  receive  even  a  signal  or  an  order,  the  Moorish  and 
Getulian  horse,  not  in  line,  or  any  regular  array  of  battle,  but  in  separate 
bodies,  as  chance  had  united  them,  rushed  furiously  on  our  men  ;  who, 
though  all  struck  with  a  panic,  yet,  calling  to  mind  what  they  had  clone 
on  former  occasions,  either  seized  their  arms,  or  protected  those  who 
were  looking  for  theirs,  while  some,  springing  on  their  horses,  advanced 
against  the  enemy.  But  the  whole  conflict  was  more  like  a  rencounter 
with  robbers  than  a  battle  ;  the  horse  and  foot  of  the  enemy,  mingled 
together  without  standards  or  order,  wounded  Pome  of  our  men,  and  cut 
down  others,  and  surprised  many  in  the  rear  while  fighting  stoutly  with 
those  in  front  ;  neither  valor  nor  arms  were  a  sufficient  defense,  the  en- 
emy being  superior  in  numbers,  and  covering  the  field  on  all  sides.  At 
last  the  Roman  veterans,  who  were  necessarily  well  experienced  in  war, 
formed  themselves,  wherever  the  nature  of  the  ground  or  chance  allowed 
them  to  unite,  in  circular  bodies,  and  thus  secured  on  every  side,  and 
regularly  drawn  up,  withstood  the  attacks  of  the  enemy. 

Marius,  in  this  desperate  emergency,  was  not  more  alarmed  or  dis- 
heartened than  on  any  previous  occasion,  but  rode  about  with  his  troop 
of  cavalry,  which  he  had  formed  of  his  bravest  soldiers  rather  than  his 
nearest  friends,  in  every  quarter  of  the  field,  sometimes  supporting  his 
own  men  when  giving  way,  sometimes  charging  the  enemy  where  they 
were  thickest,  and  doing  service  to  his  troops  with  his  sword,  since,  in 
the  general  confusion,  he  was  unable  to  command  with  his  voice. 

The  day  had  now  closed.  .  .  .  Marius,  that  his  men  might  have  a  place 
of  retreat,  took  possession  of  two  hills  contiguous  to  each  other.  .  .  .  The 
kings,  obliged  by  the  strength  of  the  Roman  position,  were  deterred 
from  continuing  the  combat.  .  .  .  Having  then  lighted  numerous  fires, 
the  barbarians,  after  their  custom,  spent  most  of  the  night  in  merri- 
ment, exultation,  and  tumultuous  clamor,  the  kings,  elated  at  having  kept 
their  ground,  conducting  themselves  as  conquerors.  This  scene,  plainly 


The  Latin  Reader.  95 


visible   to  the   Romans,  uncles  cover   of  the  night  and  on    the  higher 
ground,  afforded  great  encouragement  to  them. 

Marius  kept  his  army  perfectly  still,  let  the  poor  Africans 
have  their  riot  out,  let  them  sink  into  exhausted  sleep,  and 
then,  falling  upon  them  at  day-break,  slaughtered  them  as 
if  they  had  been  sheep. 

Marius  now  again  takes  up  his  march  to  winter-quarters 
As  a  last  particular  mentioned  of  the  order  of  march  ob- 
served, Sallust,  in  characteristically  Roman  spirit,  remarks: 
"  The  deserters,  [that  is,  the  Numidians  who  had  de- 
serted to  the  Romans,]  whose  lives  were  of  little  value,  and 
who  were  well  acquainted  with  the  country,  kept  watch  of 
the  route  of  the  enemy."  A  few  touches  added  now  to  the 
portrait  of  Marius  are  as  full  of  the  artist's  power  as  they  are 
of  the  subject's  character  : 

Marius  himself,  too,  as  if  no  other  were  placed  in  charge,  attended 
to  every  thing,  went  through  the  whole  of  the  troops,  and  praised  or 
blamed  them  according  to  their  desert.  He  was  always  armed  and  on 
the  alert,  and  obliged  his  men  to  imitate  his  example.  He  fortified 
his  camp  with  the  same  caution  with  which  he  marched  ;  stationing 
cohorts  of  the  legions  to  watch  the  gates,  and  the  auxiliary  cavalry  in 
front,  and  others  upon  the  rampart  and  lines.  He  went  round  the 
posts  in  person,  not  from  suspicion  that  his  orders  would  not  be  ob- 
served, but  that  the  labor  of  the  soldiers,  shared  equally  by  their  gen- 
eral, might  be  endured  by  them  with  cheerfulness.  Indeed,  Marius,  as 
well  at  this  as  at  other  periods  of  the  war,  kept  his  men  to  their 
duty  rather  by  the  dread  of  shame  than  of  severity;  a  course  which 
many  said  was  adopted  from  a  desire  of  popularity,  but  some  thought 
it  was  because  he  took  pleasure  in  toils  to  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed from  his  youth,  and  in  exertions  which  other  men  call  perfect 
miseries.  The  public  interest,  however,  was  served  witli  as  much 
efficiency  and  honor  as  it  could  have  been  under  the  most  rigorous 
command. 

The  caution  of  Marius  was  wise.  On  the  fourth  day  fol- 
lowing, the  indefatigable,  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  Jugur- 
tha  brought  him  again  to  the  attack.  He  almost  won  the 


96  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

day,  but  once  more  those  invincible  Romans  snatched  vic- 
tory out  of  the  very  jaws  of  defeat.  The  battle-field,  as  it 
appeared  at  this  moment,  is  described  by<Sallust  in  a  cele- 
brated sentence,  which  a  note  by  the  English  translator  of 
his  text  enables  us  conveniently  to  compare  with  two  cele- 
brated parallels,  one  earlier  and  one  later  in  literary  history 
than  Sallust.  The  first  is  Sallust's  own  original  in  Xeno- 
phon,  the  second  is  a  copy  in  Tacitus  taken  probably  from 
this  copy  by  Sallust.  Sallust  says  : 

The  spectacle  on  the  open  plains  was  then  frightful ;  some  were  pur- 
suing, others  fleeing  ;  some  were  being  slain,  others  captured  ;  men  and 
horses  were  dashed  to  the  earth ;  many,  who  were  wounded,  could 
neither  flee  nor  remain  at  rest,  attempting  to  rise,  and  instantly  falling 
back  ;  and  the  whole  field,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  strewed 
with  arms  and  dead  bodies,  and  the  intermediate  spaces  saturated  with 
blood. 

Xenophon,  four  hundred  years  earlier,  in  his  panegyric  on 
the  Spartan  monarch,  A-ges'i-la'us,  had  said : 

"  Clashing  their  shields  together,  they  pushed,  they  fought, 
they"  slew,  they  were  slain.  .  .  .  But  when  the  battle  was 
over,  you  might  have  seen,  where  they  had  fought,  the 
ground  clotted  with  blood,  the  corpses  of  friends  and  ene- 
mies mingled  together,  and  pierced  shields,  broken  lances, 
and  swords  without  their  sheaths,  strewed  on  the  ground, 
sticking  in  the  dead  bodies,  or  still  remaining  in  the  hands 
that  had  wielded  them  when  alive." 

Tacitus,  a  hundred  years  later,  in  his  life  of  Agricola,  will 
say : 

"  The  sight  on  the  open  field  was  then  striking  and  hor- 
rible ;  they  pursued,  they  inflicted  wounds,  they  took  men 
prisoners,  and  slaughtered  them  as  others  presented  them- 
selves. .  .  Everywhere  were  seen  arms  and  corpses,  mangled 
limbs,  and  the  ground  stained  with  blood." 

Lon-gi'nus,  the  famous  Greek  writer  on  rhetoric,  quotes 
Xenophon's  sentence  to  illustrate  the  rhetorical  effect  pro- 


The  Latin  Reader.  97 


duced  by  the  omission  of  conjunctions.  Our  readers  will 
instinctively  feel  how  much  more  powerfully  the  impression 
is  made  of  the  hurry,  the  huddle,  the  horror,  of  the  scene, 
by  the  writer's  letting  the  circumstances  appear  crowded  and 
heaped  one  upon  another,  in  description  too  swift  and  ex- 
cited for  conjunction  and  arrangement. 

Let  our  readers  also  observe  that,  whether  or  not  as  in 
imitation  of  a  Greek  model,  the  Roman  Sallust  here  intro- 
duces a  trait  of  writing  not  characteristic  either  of  Sallust, 
or  of  the  Roman  :  he  speaks  of  the  scene  described  as 
"frightful." 

Five  days  after  suffering  this  defeat,  Jugurtha's  confeder- 
ate, King  Bocchus,  desires  Marius  to  send  him  two  trusted 
ambassadors  for  a  conference.  Sylla  is  one  of  the  two  sent. 
Sylla  forestalls  what  Bocchus  may  say,  with  a  very  specious 
and  seductive  address  to  the  monarch.  This  address,  though 
short,  we  must  omit.  The  purport  of  it  was  to  dispose  Boc- 
chus to  desert  Jugurtha's  alliance  for  the  alliance  of  the  Ro- 
mans. Bocchus  replied  yieldingly,  but  was  by  hired  friends 
of  Jugurtha  immediately  persuaded  out  of  his  mind  again.  A 
short  interval  of  reflection,  however,  restored  Bocchus's  pru- 
dent purpose,  and  he  dispatched  a  select  embassy  of  five, 
empowered  to  treat,  first  with  Marius,  and  then,  on  Marius's 
approving,  with  the  Roman  senate,  for  peace  on  any  terms 
whatever. 

It  chanced  that  these  five  ambassadors  fell,  on  their  way, 
into  the  hands  of  robbers  who  so  frightened  them  that,  being 
let  go,  they  fled  to  Sylla.  Sylla  received  them  with  munificent 
courtesy.  Sallust  says  that  "  interested  bounty  in  those  days 
was  still  unknown  to  many,"  whereby  he  accounts  for  it  that 
these  simple  barbarian  folk  concluded  from  Sylla's  conduct 
toward  them  that  the  reports  of  Roman  avarice  were  false, 
and  that  generous  Sylla  must  surely  be  their  friend.  Sal- 
lust's  cynical-  smile  leers  out  upon  you  here  from  between 
the  lines.  Sylla  promised  his  guests  every  thing  they  asked 


9 8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


for.  He  gave  them  lessons  in  the  proper  way  to  address 
Marius  and  the  senate,  and,  at  the  end  of  forty  days,  dis- 
missed them  delightfully  penetrated  with  the  idea  that  dis- 
interested kindness,  if  nowhere  else  at  home  in  this  un- 
friendly world,  had  at  least  found  refuge  with  Lucius  Sylla. 

Three  of  the  ambassadors  were  sped  on  to  Rome,  and  t\vo 
went  back  to  Bocchns,  who  was  especially  well-pleased  with 
their  report  of  Sylla's  politeness.  The  senate  gave  answer 
that  Bocchus  should  have  Roman  friendship  and  alliance — 
when  he  should  have  deserved  them.  This  parsimonious  as- 
surance from  Rome  made  Bocchus  send  for  his  friend  Sylla. 

Sylla,  setting  out  with  a  suitable  escort,  was  met  on  his  way 
by  Volux,  Bocchus's  son.  This  encounter  was  at  first  sus- 
pected to  be  hostile,  as  Volux  had  with  him  a  body  of  horse 
whose  loose  array  made  their  number,  about  a  thousand, 
seem  greater  than  it  was.  Volux  and  Sylla  marched  together 
in  amity  two  days.  On  the  third  day,  Volux  came  distressed 
to  Sylla  with  the  news  that  his  scouts  reported  Jugurtha 
close  at  hand.  The  Mauritanian  (Moor)  urged  Sylla  to  flee 
along  with  him  under  cover  of  darkness.  Sylla  responded 
in  good  Roman  character;  but  he  did  adopt  the  suggestion 
of  Volux  that  they  should  continue  their  forward  march  by 
night.  Sunrise  found  them  tired  and  about  to  encamp,  when 
suddenly  they  learned  that  Jugurtha  was  but  two  miles  away. 
'  Perfidy  ' !  exclaimed  some  ;  '  let  us  take  vengeance  at  once 
on  Volux.'  Sylla,  himself  suspicious,  kept  cool,  and  inspirited 
his  men.  He,  however,  with  imprecations  to  Jupiter  the  al- 
mighty on  wicked  Bocchus,  ordered  Volux  to  quit  the  camp. 
The  Moor  protested  his  innocence,  and  adjured  Sylla  to 
trust  him.  He  advised  Sylla  to  go  boldly  straight  through 
the  camp  of  Jugurtha.  This  the  fearless  Roman  actually 
did,  and  without  suffering  molestation. 

The  end  now  hastens.  It  is  Sylla's  unscrupulous,  adroit, 
and  audacious  contrivance  that  entraps  the  wily  Jugurtha, 
and  delivers  him  into  the  hands  of  Marius.  Jugurtha,  it 


The  Latin  Reader.  99 


seems,  had  a  Numidian  envoy  at  Bocchus's  court  to  act  as 
spy  on  the  conduct  of  his  doubtful  Moorish  ally.  The  as- 
tuteness of  this  ambassadorial  spy  was  no  match  for  the  pro- 
found policy  of  Sylla  playing  upon  the  facile  faithlessness  of 
Bocchus.  The  first  step  was  taken  by  Bocchus.  Bocchus 
gave  Sylla  to  understand  that  he  himself  was  ready  to  agree 
to  any  thing.  It  was,  however,  he  said,  necessary  to  let  Ju- 
gurtha's  man  be  present  at  their  interviews.  Sylla  replied 
that  before  said  personage  he  would  speak  sparingly,  and 
see  Bocchus  again  apart.  It  was  accordingly  arranged  by 
Sylla  that  Bocchus,  at  the  close  of  the  formal  interview, 
should,  in  the  presence  of  Jugurtha's  representative,  tell  Sylla 
to  come  back  in  ten  days  and  get  the  king's  answer.  This 
was  done,  and  the  two  withdrew  to  their  respective  camps. 
But  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  Sylla,  according  to  the  plan 
concerted  between  them,  was  summoned  secretly  back  by 
Bocchus,  who,  to  trust  Sallust's  report  of  it,  made  the  Ro- 
man lieutenant  a  remarkable  speech,  profuse  in  professions 
of  personal  attachment  and  gratitude.  Sylla  replying  told  the 
king  in  effect  that  promises  from  an  enemy  situated  as  he, 
Bocchus,  now  was,  at  disadvantage,  would  signify  little  to  the 
Roman  senate  and  people.  He,  Bocchus,  would  have  to  do 
something  substantial.  It  lay  in  his,  Bocchus's,  power  to 
put  Rome  under  real  obligation.  He  could  betray  Jugurtha 
to  her.  Bocchus  started  back.  Why,  there  was  the  kindred 
tie,  the  solemn  league,  between  himself  and  Jugurtha.  Be- 
sides, Jugurtha  was  beloved,  and  the  Romans  were  hated,  by 
his,  Bocchus's,  subjects.  Sylla  pressed,  and  Bocchus — 
yielded.  An  ambush  was  laid,  and  the  father-in-law  de- 
livered up  the  son-in-lawr  to  Sylla.  It  was  a  proud  feather 
in  young  Sylla's  cap.  But  it  was  before  the  chariot-wheels 
of  Marius  that,  afterward,  Jugurtha,  with  his  two  sons,  was 
driven  in  triumph  at  Rome. 

Sallust's  history  stops   abruptly  with   Jugurtha's  capture. 
From  other  sources  we  learn  that  the  proud  captive  lost  his 


ioo  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

senses  under  the  dreadful  humiliation  of  the  triumph  ;  also 
that  soon  after,  with  much  contumelious  violence,  he  was 
flung  naked  into  the  chill  under-ground  dungeon  at  Rome 
called  the  Tullianum,  where  after  six  days  he  perished  of 
cold  and  starvation.  (One  authority  says  he  was  strangled.) 
He  is  said  to  have  exclaimed  shudderingly,  as  he  fell, 
"  Heavens,  a  cold  bath  this  of  yours  !  " 

Jugurtha  is  painted  black  in  Sallust's  picture.  But  the 
artist  that  painted  him,  remember,  is  a  foe  and  a  Roman. 
Jugurtha  must  have  been,  indeed,  a  false  and  bloody  man. 
Still  he  had  followers  that  clave  to  him.  Nay,  Jugurtha  was 
to  all  Africans  the  most  beloved  of  men.  He  was  univers- 
ally hailed  as  deliverer  of  the  nation  from  Rome.  His  name 
long  continued  a  spell  of  power  to  his  countrymen.  It  was 
twenty  years  after  his  death — and  already  his  kingdom  was 
in  large  part  a  province  of  Rome — when  a  son  of  his,  recog- 
nized in  the  force  opposed  to  the  Romans,  raised  such  sen- 
timents in  the  breasts  of  a  Numidian  corps  attached  to  the 
Roman  army,  that  the  whole  body  had  to  be  immediately 
sent  home  to  Africa. 

Jugurtha's  bravery,  his  talent,  his  endurance,  redeem  him 
to  our  admiration,  as  do  his  misfortunes  to  our  sympathy. 
Supposing  Jugurtha  had  been  the  conqueror,  and  some 
Numidian  partisan  of  his,  instead  of  a  Roman  partisan  of 
Cassar's,  had  given  us  the  history !  Imagine  the  difference  ! 
Instead  of  "  Punic  faith  "  as  now,  the  phrase,  "  Roman  faith," 
might  then  have  been  the  proverbial  irony  for  false  dealing. 

There  is,  outside  of  the  Bible,  no  history  that  is  not  merely 
a  version  of  history. 

OVID 

(Ovid  Publius  Ovidius  Naso  is  the  full  Roman  name)  was 
born  in  Northern  Italy.  It  is  striking  how  few,  compara- 
tively, of  the  great  Roman  writers  were  natives  of  Rome. 
Ovid  came  of  a  good  family,  and  he  liked  to  have  this 
known.  "In  my  family,"  he  says,  "you  will  find  knights  up 


The  Latin  Reader. 


through  an  endless  line  of  ancestry."  He  was  born  just 
when  the  republic  died  ;  that  is,  he  and  the  imperial  order 
came  twins  into  the  world  together,  in  43  B.C.  The  boy  was 
a  natural  versifier.  Like  Pope,  he  "  lisped  in  numbers,  for 
the  numbers  came."  His  youth  coincided  either  with  the 
full  maturity,  or  with  the  declining  age,  of  the  great  Au- 
gustan writers,  Virgil,  Livy,  Horace,  Sallust.  Unhappily  for 
himself,  he  did  not  come  under  the  sunshine  that  streamed 
on  literature  and  art  from  the  face  of  Augustus's  great  min- 
ister, Mae-ce'nas.  The  emperor  never  extended  his  favor  to 
Ovid ;  and  in  the  end,  as  our  readers  know,  the  poet  was 
sent  into  exile. 

Ovid  was  a  man  of  loose  character,  and  his  looseness  of 
character  leaked  into  his  verse.  In  fact,  much  of  what  he 
wrote  is  now  unreadable  for  rank  impurity.  One  of  his 
poems  in  particular  scandalized  the  moral  sense  of  even  his 
own  age,  and  became  the  ostensible  occasion  of  his  banish- 
ment. His  "  Metamorphoses  "  must  be  considered  his  chief 
work.  The  title  means,  literally,  ''  changes  of  form."  Ovid's 
idea  in  the  poem  is  to  tell  in  his  own  way  such  legends  of 
the  teeming  Greek  mythology  as  deal  with  the  transforma- 
tions of  men  and  women  into  animals,  plants,  or  inanimate 
things.  The  inventive  ingenuity  of  the  poet  is  displayed  in 
connecting  these  separate  stories  into  something  like  coher- 
ence and  unity.  This  poem  has  been  a  great  treasury  of 
material  to  subsequent  poets.  Even  Milton  has  conde- 
scended to  be  not  a  little  indebted  to  Ovid  for  images  or 
allusions,  which  he  dignified  by  adopting  them,  with  noble 
metamorphosis,  into  his  own  loftier  verse. 

For  our  first  specimen  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  we  select 
a  passage  which  does  not  indeed,  as  properly  perhaps  it 
should,  contain  an  instance  of  transformation,  but  which 
nevertheless  is  an  interesting  and  a  celebrated  story  capable 
of  various  moral  application.  It  is  the  story  of  Pha'e-ton, 
or  Pha'-e-thon.  We  are  able  to  give  this  in  a  version  which, 


io2  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


if  it  is  not  quite  so  closely  literal  as  would  be  desirable,  is 
excellent  art  of  its  kind,  and  is,  at  any  rate,  a  classic  too  in 
English,  for  it  is  from  the  hand  of  Joseph  Addison. 

For  the  benefit  of  the  more  inquisitive  among  our  read- 
ers, we  may  mention  that  Lippincott's  re-issue  of  Ancient 
Classics  for  English  Readers  contains  an  admirable  volume 
on  Ovid.  There  is  in  Bonn's  Classical  Library  a  very  good 
prose  translation  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  entire,  accom- 
panied with  enlightening  notes.  There  have,  first  and  last, 
been  a  considerable  number  of  English  translations  made, 
both  in  prose  and  in  verse,  of  Ovid's  poetry.  Two  small 
volumes,  published  by  Harper  &  Brothers,  compile  various 
partial  rhymed  versions  by  different  hands,  among  them 
Dryden,  Pope,  Congreve,  and  Addison.  These  pieces  of 
translation  are  all  of  them,  perhaps,  a  little  antiquated  in 
tone  and  style,  and  they  are  of  exceedingly  unequal  merit. 
They  have  the  recommendation  of  being  very  accessible. 

Our  readers  will  like,  by  way  of  introduction  to  our  exem- 
plification of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  to  see  what  the  poet 
himself — in  one  of  his  most  delightfully  buoyant  moods 
surely  it  must  have  been — thought  of  his  own  work  as  a 
whole.  We  give,  accordingly,  the  conclusion  of  the  Meta- 
morphoses in  literal  prose  translation  : 

And  now  I  have  completed  a  work,  which  neither  the  anger  of  Jove, 
nor  fire,  nor  steel,  nor  consuming  time  will  be  able  to  destroy  !  Let 
that  day,  which  has  no  power  1ml  over  this  body  of  mine,  put  an  end  to 
the  time  of  my  uncertain  life  when  it  will.  Yet,  in  my  better  part,  I 
shall  be  raised  immortal  above  the  lofty  stars,  and  indelible  shall  be  my 
name.  And  wherever  the  Roman  power  is  extended  throughout  the 
vanquished  earth,  I  shall  be  read  by  the  lips  of  nations,  and  (if  the 
presages  of  the  poets  have  aught  of  truth)  throughout  all  ages  shall  I 
survive  in  fame. 

There  is.  perhaps,  no  part  of  Ovid's  poem  that  constitutes 
upon  the  whole  a  better  warrant  to  the  poet  for  his  cheerful 
anticipation  of  enduring  fame,  than  that  which  we  now  in 


The  Latin  Reader.  103 


specimen  present.  Phoebus  (Apollo)  is  god  of  the  sun.  He 
is  applied  to  by  his  not  universally  acknowledged  son,  Phae- 
ton, with  a  startling  request.  Obedient  to  the  straitening 
demands  of  space,  we  omit  the  brilliant  opening  which  de- 
scribes the  dazzling  palace  and  the  richly  decorated  en- 
thronement of  the  god.  Phaeton  has  arrived  and  presents 
himself.  To  Phoebus's  gracious  welcome  of  his  son, 

"  Light  of  the  world,"  the  trembling  youth  replies, 
"  Illustrious  parent !  since  you  don't  despise 
The  parent's  name,  some  certain  token  give, 
That  I  may  Clymene's  proud  boast  believe, 
Nor  longer  under  false  reproaches  grieve." 

The  tender  sire  was  touched  with  what  he  said, 
And  flung  the  blaze  of  glories  from  his  head, 
And  bade  the  youth  advance.     "  My  son,"  said  he, 
"  Come  to  thy  father's  arms  !  for  Clymene 
Has  told  thee  true :  a  parent's  name  I  own, 
And  deem  thee  worthy  to  be  called  my  son. 
As  a  sure  proof  make  some  request,  and  I, 
\Vhate'er  it  be,  with  that  request  comply: 
By  Styx  I  swear,  whose  waves  are  hid  in  night, 
And  roll  impervious  to  my  piercing  sight." 

The  youth,  transported,  asks  without  delay, 
To  guide  the  sun's  bright  chariot  for  a  day. 

Phoebus  is  distressed.  He  begs  Phaeton  to  reconsider 
and  choose  more  wisely  for  himself.  This  at  considerable 
length  and  with  much  poetical  eloquence.  But  Phaeton  was 
not  to  be  dissuaded,  and  the  reluctant  father  has  his  chariot 
brought  out.  Then  at  daybreak, 

He  bids  the  nimble  Hours,  without  delay, 
Firing  forth  the  steeds:  the  nimble  Hours  obey. 
From  their  full  racks  the  generous  steeds  retire, 
Dropping  ambrosial  foams,  and  snorting  fire. 
Still  anxious  for  his  son,  the  god  of  day, 
To  make  him  proof  against  the  burning  ray, 
His  temples  with  celestial  ointment  wet, 
Of  sovereign  virtue,  to  repel  the  heat  ; 
Then  fixed  the  beamy  circle  on  his  head, 
And  fetched  a  deep  foreboding  sigh,  and  said : 


104 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


"  Take  this  at  least,  this  last  advice,  my  son  : 
Keep  a  still' rein,  and  move  but  gently  on  : 
The  coursers  of  themselves  will  run  too  fast ; 
Your  art  must  be  to  moderate  their  haste. 
Drive  them  not  on  directly  through  the  skies, 
But  where  the  zodiac's  winding  circle  lies, 
Along  the  midmost  zone  ;  but  sally  forth, 
Nor  to  the  distant  south,  nor  stormy  north. 
The  horses'  hoofs  a  beaten  track  will  show  ; 
But  neither  mount  too  high,  nor  sink  too  low. 
That  no  new  fires  or  heaven  or  earth  infest. 
Keep  the  mid  way ;  the  middle  way  is  best : 
Nor  where,  in  radiant  folds,  the  serpent  twines, 
Direct  your  course,  nor  where  the  altar  shines. 
Shun  both  extremes  ;  the  rest  let  Fortune  guide, 
And  better  for  thee  than  thyself  provide  !  " 


HELIOS,    OR   SOL. 

Meanwhile  the  restless  horses  neighed  aloud, 
Breathing  out  fire,  and  pawing  where  they  stood. 
Tethys,  not  knowing  what  had  passed,  gave  way, 
And  all  the  waste  of  heaven  before  them  lay. 
They  spring  together  out,  and  swiftly  bear 
The  flying  youth  through  clouds  and  yielding  air  ; 
With  wingy  speed  outstrip  the  eastern  wind, 
And  leave  the  breezes  of  the  morn  behind. 
The  youth  was  light,  nor  could  he  fill  the  seat, 
Or  poise  the  chariot  with  its  wonted  weight: 
But  as  at  sea  the  unballasted  vessel  .-ides, 
Cast  to  and  fro,  the  sport  of  winds  and  tides, 
So  in  the  bounding  chariot,  tossed  on  high, 
The  youth  is  hurried  headlong  through  the  sky. 
Soon  as  the  steeds  perceive  it,  they  forsake 
Their  stated  course,  and  leave  the  beaten  track. 


The  Latin  Reader.  105 


The  youth  was  in  a  maze,  nor  did  he  know 

Which  way  to  turn  the  reins,  or  where  to  go  : 

Nor  would  the  horses,  had  he  known,  obey. 

Then  the  seven  stars  first  felt  Apollo's  ray, 

And  wished  to  dip  in  the  forbidden  sea. 

The  folded  serpent,  next  the  frozen  pole, 

Stiff  and  benumbed  before,  began  to  roll, 

And  raged  with  inward  heat,  and  threatened  war, 

And  shot  a  redder  light  from  every  star; 

Nay,  and  'tis  said,  Bootes,  too,  that  fain 

Thou  wouldst  have  fled,  though  cumbered  with  thy  wain. 

The  bewildered  charioteer  is  racked  with  emotions  which 
Ovid  feels  himself  at  leisure  enough  to  describe  with  great 
particularity.  Then  follows  a  very  detailed  account,  with 
many  geographical  names,  of  the  progressive  effects  of  that 
unguided  drive.  We  omit  and  resume  : 

The  astonished  youth,  where'er  his  eyes  could  turn. 
Beheld  the  universe  around  him  burn  : 
The  world  was  in  a  blaze  ;  nor  could  he  bear 
The  sultry  vapors  and  the  scorching  air, 
Which  from  below,  as  from  a  furnace,  flowed  : 
And  now  the  axle-tree  beneath  him  glowed. 
Lost  in  the  whirling  clouds  that  round  him  broke, 
And  white  with  ashes,  hovering  in  the  smoke, 
He  flew  where'er  the  horses  drove,  nor  knew 
Whither  the  horses  drove,  or  where  he  flew. 

'Twas  then,  they  say,  the  swarthy  Moor  begun 
To  change  his  hue,  and  blacken  in  the  sun  ; 
Then  Libya  first,  of  all  her  moisture  drained, 
Became  a  barren  waste,  a  wild  of  sand  ; 
The  water-nymphs  lament  their  empty  urns  ; 
Boeotia,  robbed  of  silver  Dirce,  mourns. 
Corinth  Pyrene's  wasted  spring  bewails  ; 
And  Argos  grieves  while  Amymone  fails. 

The  floods  are  drained  from  every  distant  coast; 
Ev'n  Tanais,  though  fixed  in  ice,  was  lost  ; 
Enraged  Caicus  and  Lycormas  roar, 
And  Xanthus,  fated  to  be  burnt  once  more. 
The  famed  Mseander,  that  unwearied  strays 
Through  many  windings,  smokes  in  every  maze  : 
From  his  loved  Babylon  Euphrates  flies  : 
The  big-swollen  Ganges  and  the  Danube  rise 
In  thickening  fumes,  and  darken  half  the  skies: 
In  flames  Ismenos  and  the  Phasis  rolled, 
And  Tagus,  floating  in  his  melted  gold  : 
5* 


io6  Prefiaratjry  La tin   Course  in  English. 


The  swans,  that  on  Cnyster  often  tried 
Their  tuneful  songs,  now  sung  their  last,  and  died. 
The  frighted  Nile  ran  off,  and  under  ground 
Concealed  iiis  head,  nor  ean  it  yet  he  found  ; 
His  seven  divided  currents  all  are  dry, 
And,  where  they  rolled,  seven  gaping  trenches  lie  : 
No  more  the  Rhine  or  Rhone  their  course  maintain, 
Nor  Tiber,  of  his  promised  empire  vain. 
The  ground,  deep  cleft,  admits  the  dazzling  ray, 
And  startles  Pluto  with  the  flash  of  day  : 
The  seas  shrink  in,  and  to  the  sight  disclose 
Wide  naked  plains,  where  once  their  billows  rose  ; 
Their  roeks  are  all  discovered,  and  increase 
The  number  of  the  scattered  Cyclades; 
The  fish  in  shoals  about  the  bottom  creep  ; 
Nor  longer  dares  the  crooked  dolphin  leap  : 
Gasping  for  breath,  the  unshapen  Phocce  die, 
And  on  the  boiling  wave  extended  lie  : 
Nereus,  and  Doris,  with  her  virgin  tram, 
Seek  out  the  last  recesses  of  the  main  : 
Beneath  unfathomable  depths  they  faint, 
And  secret  in  their  gloomy  caverns  pant  : 
Stern  Neptune  thiice  above  the  waves  upheld 
His  face,  and  thrice  was  by  the  flames  repelled. 
The  Earth  at  length,  on  every  side  embraced 
With  scalding  seas,  that  floated  round  her  waist, 
When  now  she  felt  the  springs  and  rivers  come, 
And  crowd  within  the  hollow  of  her  womb, 
Uplifted  to  the  heavens  her  blasted  head, 
And  clapped  her  hand  upon  her  brows,  and  said, 
(But  first,  impatient  of  the  sultry  heat, 
Sunk  deeper  down,  and  sought  a  cooler  seat)  : 
"  If  you,  great  king  of  gods,  my  death  approve, 
And  I  deserve  it,  let  me  die  by  Jove  : 
If  I  must  perish  by  the  force  of  fire, 
Let  me  transfixed  with  thunderbolts  expire." 


Jove  called  to  witness  every  power  above, 
And  even  the  god  whose  son  the  chariot  drove, 
That  what  he  acts  he  is  compelled  to  do, 
Or  universal  ruin  must  ensue. 
Straight  he  ascends  the  high  ethereal  throne, 
From  whence  he  used  to  dart  his  thunder  down, 
From  whence  his  showers  and  storms  he  used  to  pour, 
But  now  could  meet  with  neither  storm  or  shower  : 
Then,  aiming  at  the  youth,  with  lifted  hand, 
Full  at  his  head  he  hurled  the  forky  brand 
In  dreadful  thunderings.      Thus  the  almighty  sire 
Suppressed  the  raging  of  the  fires— with  fire. 


The  Latin  Reader.  107 


At  once  from  life  and  from  the  chariot  driven, 
The  ambitious  boy  fell  thunder-struck  from  heaven ; 
The  horses  started  with  a  sudden  bound, 
And  flung  the  reins  and  chariot  to  the  ground: 
The  studded  harness  from  their  necks  they  broke, 
Here  fell  a  wheel,  and  here  a  silver  spoke, 
Here  were  the  beam  and  axle  torn  away. 
And  scattered  o'er  the  earth  the  shining  fragments  lay. 
The  breathless  Phaeton,  with  flaming  hair, 
Shot  from  the  chariot  like  a  falling  star, 
That  in  a  summer's  evening  from  the  top 
Of  heaven  drops  down,  or  seems,  at  least,  to  drop, 
Till  on  the  Po  his  blasted  corpse  was  hurled, 
Far  from  his  country,  in  the  western  world. 

A  "  long  bright  river  "  of  verse  it  is,  in  the  original,  and  in 
the  translation  as  well.  We  have  been  sorry  to  break  the 
current  with  omissions.  You,  however,  lose  nothing  essential. 
You  simply  fail  to  receive,  as  through  any  condensed  citation 
you  would  necessarily  fail  to  receive,  a  due  impression  of  the 
melodious  prolixity,  the  "  linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out," 
which  is  characteristic  of  Ovid. 

The  foregoing  episode  about  Phaeton  is  taken  from  the 
second  book  of  the  Metamorphoses.  (There  are  fifteen 
books  in  all.)  As  we  said  beforehand,  and  as  our  readers 
have  now  seen,  it  does  not  include  an  example  of  transfor- 
mation. But  there  is  plenty  of  transformation  in  the  sequel 
of  the  story,  as  given  in  the  rest  of  the  second  book.  Phae- 
ton's sisters,  while  mourning  their  brother,  are  changed  into 
trees,  and  a  male  kinsman  of  his,  similarly  engaged,  finds  him- 
self suddenly  a  swan.  Jupiter,  visiting  the  earth  to  mend 
the  mischief  caused  by  Phaeton's  adventure,  commits  some 
characteristic  mischief  of  his  own,  which  his  wife  Juno, 
jealous  with  reason,  revenges  by  making  a  bear  of  the 
unhappy  victim  of  her  husband's  lust.  Areas,  son  by  Jupiter 
to  that  victim,  being  about  to  slay  his  unrecognized  mother, 
in  her  form  of  bear,  presto,  Jupiter  plants  them  both  amony; 
the  constellations  of  the  sky.  These  are  but  a  few  of  the 
transformations  with  which  Ovid  fills  the  sequel  of  his  story 
of  Phaeton.  Our  readers  will  guess  that  here  they  have 


io8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


Ovid's  account  of  the  origin  of  the  constellation,  Ursa  Major, 
and  perhaps,  too,  of  the  neighboring  constellation,  Ursa 
Minor— the  mother  being  the  Greater  Bear,  and  her  tender 
son,  the  Lesser. 

Ovid's  fondness  for  making  his  stories  always  about  as 
long  as  he  can — which  means  longer  than  any  body  except 
Ovid  could  make  them — creates  for  us  great  difficulty  in  lay- 
ing before  our  readers,  within  allowable  limits  of  space,  as 
great  a  variety  of  instances  as  we  should  be  glad  to  present, 
of  this  poet's  quality.  We  must  not  dismiss  the  example  al- 
ready offered  without  adding  one  or  two  suggested  remarks. 

In  Burke's  celebrated  "  Letter  to  a  Noble  Lord,"  one  of  the 
greatest  masterpieces  of  indignant  sarcasm  to  be  found  in 
literature,  occurs  this  sentence,  "  I  was  not,  like  his  Grace  of 
Bedford,  swaddled,  and  rocked,  and  dandled  into  a  legis- 
lator— Nitor  in  adversum  is  the  motto  for  a  man  like  me." 
Burke's  Latin  phrase  is  taken  from  a  line  in  the  foregoing 
passage  of  Ovid.  "I  steer  against  their  motions,"  Addison 
renders  it  freely.  More  literally,  it  is,  "  I  struggle  against 
opposition." 

The  words  which  Addison  translates,  "  Keep  the  mid  way, 
the  middle  way  is  best,"  our  readers  will  recognize  in  its 
original  Latin  as  a  familiar  quotation  for  recommending  the 
proverbial  wisdom  of  the  golden  mean  : 

Medio  tutissimus  ibis. 

The  legend  of  Phaeton  is  conceived  by  many  to  have 
had  its  origin  in  some  meteorological  fact — an  extraordinary 
solar  heat  perhaps,  producing  drought  and  conflagration.  It 
has  even  been  connected,  by  a  rather  fanciful  conjecture, 
with  the  burning  of  the  cities  of  the  plain,  and  also  with  the 
staying  of  the  sun  at  the  command  of  Joshua.  Chrysostom 
offers  the  suggestion  of  Elijah's  rapture  in  his  chariot  of  fire. 
Plutarch  explains  that  Phaeton  was  a  Molossian  king  who 
drowned  himself  in  the  Po — lively  Lucian  to  this  explanation 


The  Latin  Reader.  109 


of  Plutarch's  adding,  that  the  monarch,  having  a  mind  to 
astronomy,  died  before  completing  his  observations,  whence 
the  story  of  his  not  knowing  how  to  drive  to  the  goal.  And 
now  our  readers,  from  among  these  various  modes  of  ex- 
plaining the  myth  of  Phaeton,  shall  choose  to  suit  themselves; 
or  if  this  they  cannot  do,  then,  either  give  the  puzzle  up,  or 
invent  a  solution  of  their  own,  whichever  course  may  please 
them  best. 

We  shall  not  violently  shock  the  unity,  the  progress,  or  the 
true  effect,  of  the  Metamorphoses,  if  we  go  back  now,  as  let 
us  do,  to  the  first  book  for  our  second  specimen.  There  is, 
in  truth,  no  proper  organic  unity  to  Ovid's  Metamorphoses. 
The  successive  stories  selected  by  the  poet  to  be  told  are 
just  ingeniously  tacked  together  by  some  association  more  or 
less  natural,  and  that  is  all.  The  interest  of  the  work  is  the 
interest  of  its  episodes.  In  fact  the  work  consists  of  its 
episodes.  To  point  out  the  connection  of  this  story  with 
that,  would  in  most  cases  be  merely  curious,  not  at  all  in- 
structive. By  disregarding,  as  we  do,  the  order  of  the  poem, 
we  best  point  out  to  our  readers  the  fact  that  the  poem  has 
no  order  that  needs  to  be  regarded. 

Dryden  shall  be  our  next  translator — a  bold,  free,  manly, 
mind,  gifted  with  more  of  talent  than  of  real  genius,  but 
writer  of  verse  that  is  secure  of  place  among  the  imper- 
ishable classics  of  English  literature.  You  will  feel  increase 
of  vigor,  as  you  will  feel  diminution  of  urbanity,  elegance, 
and  grace,  in  passing  from  Addison  to  Dryden.  On  the 
other  hand,  such  readers  as  may  take  the  pains  to  compare 
Dryden  translating  Ovid  with  Dryden  translating  Virgil,  will 
observe  that  the  native  force  of  this  writer  is  sympathetically 
modulated  to  more  softness  and  sweetness  in  representing 
the  poet  of  the  Metamorphoses.  Let  us  choose  the  pretty 
story  of  Daphne's  transformation  into  a  laurel.  We  shall  omit 
in  places,  indicating  our  omissions  by  dotted  lines.  Apollo 
is  the — hero,  shall  we  call  him  ?  of  a  most  unmanly,  if  too 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


godlike,  adventure  in  which  Daphne,  daughter  of  the  river 
Pencils,  is  the  heroine,  or  victim.  Disregarding  the  contrac- 
tion of  verbal  forms  which  Dry  den  and  Addison  affect,  we 
print,  for  instance,  "  viewed,"  instead  of  "  vievv'd,"  as  do 
they.  It  is  observable,  however,  that  Tennyson,  too,  whose 
judgment  in  such  things  it  is  safer  generally  to  accept  than 
to  reject,  makes  the  line  light  to  the  eye  by  the  practice 
which  we  decide  to  honor  rather  in  the  breach  than  in  the  ob- 
servance. The  mutilated  aspect  of  words  thus  contracted  is 
hardly,  we  think,  compensated  for  by  merely  ocular  illusion 
of  greater  lightness  in  the  line. 

Apollo  had  disdainfully  bidden  stripling  Cupid  lay  aside 
bow  and  arrows,  as  weapons  proper  to  himself  alone,  and  un- 
suitable for  such  as  the  infant  god  of  love.  Whereupon 
Cupid  takes  revenge  by  piercing  Apollo's  breast  with  passion 
for  Daphne.  We  omit  some  opening  lines: 

So  burns  the  god,  consuming  in  desire, 
And  feeding  in  his  breast  a  fruitless  fire : 
Her  well-turned  neck  he  viewed,  (her  neck  was  bare,) 
And  on  her  shoulders  her  disheveled  hair: 
"  O  were  it  combed,"  said  he,  "  with  what  a  grace 
Would  every  waving  curl  become  her  face  !  " 
He  viewed  her  eyes,  like  heavenly  lamps  that  shone, 
lie  viewed  her  lips,  too  sweet  to  view  alone. 
Swift  as  the  wind  the  damsel  fled  away, 
Nor  did  for  these  alluring  speeches  stay. 

"Stay,  nymph,"  he  cried,  "  I  follow,  not  a  foe. 
Thus  from  the  lion  trips  the  trembling  doe  ; 
Thus  from  the  wolf  the  frightened  lamb  removes, 
And  from  pursuing  falcons  fearful  doves  : 
Thou  shunn'st  a  god,  and  shunn'st  a  god  that  loves. 

Yet  think  from  whom  thou  dost  so  rashly  fly  ; 
Nor  basely  born,  nor  shepherd's  swain  am  I. 
Perhaps  thou  know'st  not  my  superior  state  ; 
And  from  that  ignorance  proceeds  thy  hate. 
Me,  Claros,  Delphos,  Tenedos,  obey; 
These  hands  the  Patareian  sceptre  sway : 
The  king  of  gods  begot  me  :   what  shall  be, 
Or  is,  or  ever  was,  in  fate,  I  see : 
Mine  is  the  invention  of  the  charming  lyre: 
Sweet  notes,  and  heavenly  numbers,  I  inspire 


TJic  Latin  Reader. 


Sure  is  my  bow,  unerring  is  my  dart  ; 
But  ah  !   more  deadly  his  who  pierced  my  heart. 
Med'cine  is  mine  ;  what  herbs  and  simples  grow 
In  fields  and  forests,  all  their  powers  I  know, 
And  am  the  great  physician  called  below. 
Alas  !   that  fields  and  forests  can  afford 
No  remedies  to  heal  their  love-sick  lord  : 
To  cure  the  pains  of  love  no  plant  avails  ; 
And  his  own  physic  the  physician  fails." 

She,  urged  by  fear,  her  feet  did  swiftly  move, 
But  he  more  swiftly,  who  was  urged  by  love. 

The  nymph  grew  pale,  and,  in  a  mortal  fright, 

Spent  with  the  labor  of  so  long  a  flight, 

And  now  despairing,  cast  a  mournful  look 

Upon  the  streams  of  her  paternal  brook  : 

"  O  help,"  she  cried,   "  in  this  extremes!  need  ! 

If  water- gods  are  deities  indeed  ; 

Gape  earth,  and  this  unhappy  wretch  entomb  ; 

Or  change  my  form,  whence  all  my  sorrows  come." 

Scarce  had  she  finished,  when  her  feet  she  found 

Benumbed  with  cold,  and  fastened  to  the  ground  ; 

A  filmy  rind  about  her  body  grows  ; 

Her  hair  to  leaves,  her  arms  extend  to  boughs  : 

The  nymph  is  all  into  a  laurel  gone ; 

The  smoothness  of  her  skin  remains  alone. 

Yet  Phoebus  loves  her  still,  and  casting  round 

Her  bole  his  arms,  some  little  warmth  he  found. 

The  tree  still  panted  in  the  unfinished  part, 

Not  wholly  vegetive,  and  heaved  her  heart. 

He  fixed  his  lips  upon  the  trembling  rind  ; 

It  swerved  aside,  and  his  embrace  declined  : 

To  whom  the  god  :   "  Because  thou  canst  not  be 

My  mistress,  I  espouse  thee  for  my  tree  : 

Be  thou  the  prize  of  honor  and  renown  ; 

The  deathless  poet,  and  the  poem,  crown  : 

Thou  shall  the  Roman  festivals  adorn, 

And,  after  poets,  be  by  victors  worn  : 

Thou  shall  returning  Caesar's  triumph  grace, 

When  pomps  shall  in  a  long  procession  pass  ; 

Wreathed  on  the  post  before  his  palace  wait, 

And  be  the  sacred  guardian  of  the  gate  : 

Secure  from  thunder  and  unharmed  by  Jove  ; 

Unfading  as  the  immortal  poweis  above: 

And  as  the  locks  of  Phoebus  are  unshorn, 

So  shall  perpetual  green  thy  boughs  adorn." 

The  grateful  tree  was  pleased  with  what  he  said; 
And  shook  the  shady  honors  of  her  head. 


H2  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Dazzled  and  perplexed  amid  so  many  brilliant  things  from 
which  to  choose,  we  pitch  next  upon  the  tragic  story  of 
Ni'o-be.  This — for  the  sake  of  variety,  as  well  as  for  the 
sake  of  letting  our  readers,  in  this  final  example,  see  a  more 
exact  reproduction  of  the  very  words  and  forms  of  the 
original — we  will  give  from  the  literal  prose  translation  of 
Ovid's  "  Metamorphoses  "  furnished  in  Bonn's  Classical  Li- 
brary. It  would  seem  that  Niobe  (wife  of  Am-phi'on,  king 
of  Thebes)  was  of  a  temper  haughty  even  to  impiety.  When 
sacrifice  and  worship  were  demanded  from  the  Thebans  by 
La-to'na,  mother  of  Apollo  and  Di-a'na,  to  be  paid  to  herself 
and  her  two  divine  children,  Niobe  advanced  her  own  claim 
to  such  honors  in  rivalry  with  the  divinities.  To  punish  her, 
Apollo  slew  her  seven  sons  and  seven  daughters.  We  omit 
the  horribly  realistic  details  of  the  shooting  of  the  seven  sons 
by  the  archer  god.  Suffice  to  say,  these  had  been  duly  and 
divinely  shot : 

The  sisters  were  standing  in  black  array,  with  their  hair  disheveled, 
before  the  biers  of  their  brothers.  One  of  these,  drawing  out  the  weap- 
on sticking  in  her  entrails,  about  to  die,  swooned  away,  with  her  face 
placed  upon  her  brother.  Another,  endeavoring  to  console  her  wretched 
parent,  was  suddenly  silent,  and  was  doubled  together  with  an  invisible 
wound  ;  and  did  not  close  her  mouth,  until  after  the  breath  had  de- 
parted. Another,  vainly  flying,  falls  down  ;  another  dies  upon  her  sis- 
ter ;  another  lies  hid  ;  another  you  might  see  trembling.  And  now  six 
being  put  to  death,  and  having  received  different  wounds,  the  last  only 
remains  ;  her  mother  covering  her  with  all  her  body,  and  with  all  her 
garments,  cries,  "  Leave  me  but  one,  and  that  the  youngest ;  the  young- 
est only  do  I  ask  out  of  so  many,  and  that  but  one."  And  while  she 
was  entreating,  she,  for  whom  she  was  entreating,  was  slain.  Childless, 
she  sat  down  among  her  dead  sons  and  daughters  and  husband,  and  be- 
came hardened  by  her  woes.  The  breeze  stirs  not  a  hair  ;  in  her 
features  is  a  color  without  blood  ;  her  eyes  stand  unmoved  in  her  sad 
cheeks  ;  in  her  form  there  is  no  appearance  of  life.  Her  tongue  itself, 
too,  congeals  within,  together  with  her  hardened  palate,  and  the  veins 
cease  to  be  able  to  be  moved.  Her  neck  can  neither  be  bent,  nor  can 
her  arms  give  any  motion,  nor  her  feet  move.  Within  her  entrails,  too, 
it  is  stone. 


The  Latin  Reader.  113 


Still  did  she  weep  on  ;  and,  enveloped  in  a  hurricane  of  mighty  wind, 
she  was  borne  away  to  her  native  land.  There,  fixed  on  the  top  of  a 
mountain,  she  dissolves  ;  and  even  yet  does  the  marble  distil  tears. 

Our  readers  will  recall  Byron's  magnificent  comparison  of 
the  desolated  city  of  Rome  : 

"  The  Niobe  of  nations  !  there  she  stands, 
Childless  and  crownless,  in  her  voiceless  woe  ; 

An  empty  urn  within  her  withered  hands, 
Whose  holy  dust  was  scattered  long  ago." 

Shakespeare's  "Like  Niobe,  all  tears"  is  one  of  those 
commonplaces  of  quotation  multitudinously  supplied  by  the 
tragedy  of  Hamlet. 

The  stories  of  miraculous  metamorphosis  were  even  in  an- 
cient times  the  subject  of  much  ingenious  conjectural  inter- 
pretation. We  hardly  have  space  here  to  accumulate  ex- 
amples of  the  guesses  that  have  been  made  to  explain  the 
origin  and  meaning  of  these  myths. 

We  have  not,  of  course,  pretended  to  give  any  thing  like  a 
full  account  of  Ovid's  "  Metamorphoses."  To  do  so  would  far 
exceed  our  space.  But  it  would  in  any  case  be  tedious,  and 
not  very  profitable.  Some  monuments  of  architecture  there 
are,  which,  besides  being  composed  of  choice  stones  exqui- 
sitely wrought,  are  great  wholes  whose  aggregate  mass  and 
proportion  impress  you  with  an  effect  of  grandeur  or  beauty 
infinitely  surpassing  the  sum  of  the  effects  due  to  all  the 
component  parts  taken  together.  Of  such  a  structure  a  few 
stones  by  themselves  would  give  a  very  inadequate  idea. 
But  the  "  Metamorphoses "  of  Ovid  form  an  edifice  from 
which  a  number  of  shapely  and  polished  precious  blocks 
brought  away  will  serve  to  suggest  all  the  beauty  that  be- 
longs to  the  building.  You  have  merely  to  say,  There  are  a 
great  many  lovely  pieces  like  these.  You  could  not  truly 
say,  The  glory  of  the  whole  is  greater  than  that  of  the  sum 
of  all  the  parts. 

Ovid  had  predecessors  in  the  treatment  of  his  subject.    To 


1 1 4  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 


these  predecessors  how  much  he  was  indebted,  we  have  no 
means  of  judging.  The  earlier  works  have  perished,  and  no 
critics  who  knew  them  have  transmitted  to  us  their  estimate 
of  Ovid's  obligation.  We  need  hardly  say  that  Ovid's  fore- 
runners were  Greek. 

If  any  reader  of  ours  has  the  means  at  command,  and 
therewith  the  curiosity  too,  to  go  further  than  we  forward  him 
in  the  study  of  Ovid's  "  Metamorphoses,"  he  will  find  The 
Golden  Age,  Nar-cis'sus  at  the  Fountain,  Daed'a-lus  and 
Ic'a-rus,  Pyr'a-mus  and  This'be,  Bau'cis  and  Phi-le'mon, 
charming  episodes  for  his  examination.  Of  the  story  of 
Baucis  and  Philemon,  Hawthorne  makes  a  lovely  idyll, 
clothed  upon  with  more  than  Ovidian  grace,  in  his  "Won- 
der-book." Hawthorne's,  "  The  Golden  Touch,"  in  the  same 
volume,  is  that  magical  genius's  treatment  of  Ovid's  "  Midas." 
Indeed,  you  could  not  do  better,  for  entrance  into  the  spirit 
of  these  old  myths  delightfully  modernized,  than  to  read  Haw- 
thorne throughout  in  his  two  collections,  "  Wonder-book  " 
and  "  Tanglewood  Tales."  No  one  will  need  to  be  reminded 
of  the  interlude  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe,  interspersed  through 
Shakespeare's"  Midsummer  Night's  Dream."  A  good  many 
Americans  will  have  become  familiar  with  Mr.  John  G. 
Saxe's  comical  rendering  of  the  same  story.  Milton's  "  Ly- 
cidas,"  (notably  the  allusion  in  it  to  Orpheus,)  and  his 
"  Comus,"  especially  the  song  in  it  to  Echo,  are  full  of  Ovid. 

Since  the  publication  of  the  volume  answering  to  this,  in 
Greek,  we  have  received  from  correspondents  in  various 
parts  of  the  country,  courteous  letters  of  request  to  have  col- 
l.iteral  reading  suggested  in  private  communications,  addi- 
tionally illustrative  of  the  subjects  introduced  in  our  text. 
In  some  instances,  these  applications  have  proceeded  from 
persons  writing  on  behalf  of  circles  and  coteries  of  readers 
who  were  making  their  perusal  of  the  book  a  genial  social 
exercise.  To  all  such  friends  of  ours  we  will  say  that  a  com- 
parative reading  of  the  different  English  poems  named  by  us 


The  Latin  Reader. 


as  in  part  drawn  from  Ovid,  together  with  Hawthorne's  ex- 
quisite handling  of  Ovidian  topics,  would  certainly  prove  at 
once  instructive  and  delightful.  The  same  is  true  of  other 
productions  in  English  literature  elsewhere  mentioned  in 
connection  with  the  various  Latin  authors  represented. 

We  must  now  take  lingering  leave  of  Ovid,  to  go  on  in  the 
following  chapter  with  an  author  who,  to  a  character  of  so- 
cial dilettanteism  in  which  he  might  have  rivaled  Ovid  him- 
self, joined  a  character  of  stern  and  strenuous  practical  force, 
tor  affairs  of  war  and  of  state,  iu  which  he  scarcely  admitted 
any  rival  ancient  or  modern — we  mean,  Julius  Caesar.  We 
barely  add  that  Ovid's  verse  in  the  "Metamorphoses"  is  the 
same  as  that  of  Virgil  and  of  Homer,  namely,  the  dactylic 
hexameter.  No  Latin  poet  ever  made  his  numbers  more 
tunable  than  did  Ovid. 


HEAD   OK   MEDUSA. 


1 1 6  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

VI. 
CAESAR. 

WE  put  our  readers  on  their  guard.  The  present  writer 
is  not  a  disciple  of  Carlyle.  lie  is  no  idolater  of  power. 
He  does  not  believe  that  might  makes  right.  He  is  not, 
therefore,  a  member  of  that  school  of  thinkers  who  fall 
down  speechless  in  worship  before  Caesar.  We  have  honestly 
tried,  in  the  pages  that  follow,  to  do  scrupulous  justice  to 
that  great  character — as  much  so  as  if  he  were  still  a  living 
man  among  us,  to  be  pleased  or  to  be  pained  with  award  of 
human  praise  or  blame.  We  have,  however,  found  it  quite 
impossible  not  to  feel,  and  not  sometimes  to  vent,  a  sentiment 
of  indignation  at  the  monstrous  things  that  Cresar  could  do. 

We  have  been,  no  doubt,  prompted  the  more  to  this  by  the 
present  prevalence  of  the  opposite  tendency,  the  tendency  not 
simply  to  apologize  for,  but  boldly  to  glorify,  the  man.  Let 
it  be  considered  that  it  is  not  against  Cassar,  the  individual 
man,  but  against  Cocsar,  the  great  embodiment  of  a  certain 
spirit,  pagan  in  general  and  Roman  in  particular,  that  our 
zeal  of  condemnation  here  or  there  irrepressibly  kindles. 

"  The  foremost  man  of  all  this  world,"  is  what  Shakes- 
peare, -in  his  tragedy  bearing  for  title  the  illustrious  Roman's 
name,  makes  Brutus,  who  had  stabbed  him,  speaking  to 
Cassius,  who  also  had  stabbed  him,  call  Julius  Caesar.  The 
general  agreement  of  thoughtful  minds  has  tended  to  affirm 
Brutus's  sentence,  and  this  in  a  meaning  of  his  expression 
higher  and  larger  than  that  which  Shakespeare  probably  in- 
tended to  represent  Brutus  as  intending  to  convey.  Fore- 
most in  position  and  power,  rather  than  foremost  in  rank  of 
peisonal  greatness,  was,  we  suppose,  what  Shakespeare's 
Brutus  meant.  But  there  is,  with  judges  presumptively  com- 
petent to  pronounce  opinion,  a  strong  disposition,  to  say  the 
least,  to  accord  to  Julius  Caesar  a  place  of  lonely  pre-emi- 


Cccsar.  117 

r.ence,  as,  upon  the  whole,  in  amplitude  of  natural  endow- 
ment, and  in  splendor  of  historic  achievement,  perhaps  the 
very  first  among  the  sons  of  men. 

It  undoubtedly  requires  much  comprehensive  and  compara- 
tive knowledge  of  the  heroes  of  history,  to  appreciate  the 
large-molded,  many-sided  character  of  such  a  man  as  Caesar. 
Julius  Caesar  is  great  in  an  order  of  greatness  like  that,  for 


instance,  of  Mont  Blanc  or  of  Niagara  among  the  works  of 
nature;  of  St.  Peter's  or  of  the  Milan  Cathedral  among  the 
works  of  human  hands.  You  have  to  study  him  to  measure 
him.  You  have  to  put  other  great  men  alongside  of  him, 
to  perceive  how  he  dwarfs  them  by  the  contrast  of  his  easy 
and  symmetrical  magnitude. 

In  the  present  volume,  we  are  to  let  Caesar,  in  large  part, 
make  his  own  impression  of  himself  by  one  of  his   literary 


1 1 8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


works.  This  work  is  the  account  which  he  wrote  of  his  cam- 
paigns in  Gaul.  "  Commentaries'"  is  the  name  by  which  the 
account  is  technically  known.  The  word  "commentaries" 
in  this  title  is  not,  of  course,  to  be  understood  as  signifying 
remarks  in  criticism  and  explanation.  It  is  used  in  the  sense  of 
memoirs  or  memoranda.  In  the  entitling  of  Caesar's  book,  it 
has — it  perhaps  was  designed  to  have — the  effect  of  modesty. 
It  is  as  if  to  forewarn  the  reader,  This  is  not  an  elaborate 
work  of  literary  art;  it  is  simply  a  collection  of  sketches  or  jot- 
tings. And,  in  fact,  Caesar's  memoirs  of  his  campaigns  are  said 
to  have  been  written  from  time  to  time,  in  the  course  of  duty 
performed  by  him  as  military  commander  in  arduously  act- 
ive service  in  field  and  in  camp.  They  have  somewhat  the 
character  of  journals  of  camp  and  march  and  fight. 

They  are,  for  all  that,  much  admired  for  the  style  in 
which  they  are  written.  Clear,  straightforward,  simple, 
manly  records  they  are,  of  great  achievements,  hardly,  but 
triumphantly,  performed.  Caesar  writes  constantly  in  the  third 
person,  never,  save  in  some  three  or  four,  perhaps  inadvertent, 
certainly  unimportant,  cases  of  exception,  in  the  first.  That 
is,  when  he  means  Caesar  he  says  "  Caesar,"  not  "  I,"  or  "  me." 
Tiiere  is  scarcely  any  thing  more  remarkable  in  the  book 
than  the  impersonal  form  under  which  the  strong  person- 
ality of  writer  and  actor  is  forced  by  the  writer  to  appear. 
You  would  scarcely  guess,  from  merely  reading  the  book, 
that  the  writer  of  the  book  is  the  same  man  as  he  who  fur- 
nished the  matter  of  action  which  the  book  was  written  to 
report.  Given  the  fact  that  Caesar  is  the  author,  you  then 
immediately  feel  that  the  author  could  have  been  no  other 
than  he.  But,  without  that  clue,  the  idea  might  never  have 
occurred  to  your  mind.  The  external  evidence,  however,  is 
ample  for  Caesar's  authorship  of  the  "  Commentaries." 

What  did  Caesar  write  his  memoirs  for?  Such  a  detail  of 
his  activity  was  not  required  by  the  government  at  Rome. 
The  answer  probably  is,  Caesar  felt  himself  a  public  man. 


i  j  9 


He  had  the  consciousness  of  great  aims.  He  felt  that  he 
could  do  things  worthy  of  record,  and  he  felt,  moreover, 
that  he  could  produce  a  record  worthy  of  the  things  that  he 
should  do.  In  addition  to  this  more  abstract  incentive,  he, 
no  doubt,  had  a  directly  practical  purpose  in  writing  his 
"  Commentaries."  The  book  would  advance  his  fortunes  at 
Rome. 

For  Csesar  was  unboundedly  ambitious.  He  wanted  to  be  the 
lord  of  the  world.  We  impute  this  motive  freely  with  all  con- 
fidence. Let  every  reader,  however,  keep  wisely  on  his  guard. 
Motives  are  generally  matters  of  inference  only.  Cicero  says 
that  Caesar  had  habitually  on  his  tongue  that  sentiment  from 
Euripides,  "  If  you  may  ever  rightly  do  wrong,  you  may  do  so 
for  the  sake  of  obtaining  sovereign  power."  He  wished  in  his 
distant  wars  to  act  under  the  gaze  of  mankind.  He  should 
need  the  support  of  wide  admiration  and  confidence  from 
his  countrymen,  in  the  future  movements  that  he  might  find 
it  necessary  to  make,  in  his  race  for  the  first  place  of  power 
among  men.  Still,  Caesar  relates  his  own  exploits  witii  sin- 
gular self-restraint.  There  is  not  a  particle  of  apparent  dem- 
onstration. A  tone  of  quiet  and  candor  prevails  through- 
out his  story,  which  \vould  be  the  perfection  of  art,  were  it 
art,  but  which  probably  is  in  the  main  the  unaffected,  unsought 
expression  of  a  great  nature,  in  complacent  harmony  with 
itself.  Caesar's  singleness  of  purpose  as  a  man  helped  him 
as  a  writer.  It  forbade  his  allowing  any  literary  vanity  to 
disturb  the  serenity  of  his  style.  Every  other  ambition  was 
servant  in  Caesar  to  the  ambition  to  be  the  first  man  in  the 
first  city  in  the  world. 

We  are  not  to  read  Caesar's  "  Commentaries,"  as  if  the  au- 
thor's years  of  unparalleled  activity  in  Gaul  were  a  mere  un- 
related episode,  brilliant,  but  barren,  in  his  career.  We  are 
rather  to  read  them  —  but  there  are  two  quite  different  ways 
in  which  we  may  read  Caesar's  Gallic  "  Commentaries."  Either 
we  may  regard  them  as  telling  the  story  of  the  thorough  and 


I2O  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

masterful  manner  in  which  he  accomplished  an  important 
share  of  certain  serious  work  that  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  do  for 
Rome  and  for  the  world ;  or  we  may  regard  them  as  giving 
account  of  a  piece  of  canvassing,  on  his  part,  for  place 
and  power  in  the  Roman  state,  canvassing  conceived  and 
executed  on  a  scale  of  largeness  and  enterprise  beyond  the 
reach  of  any  but  the  most  magnificent  political  as  well  as 
military  genius.  But  whichever  of  these  two  views  we 
take,  it  still  remains  true  that  this  history  is  vitally  related 
to  the  whole  subsequent  history  of  mankind. 

We  shall,  in  reading  Caesar's  story,  seem  to  be  reading  only 
how  consummate  skill  and  discipline  in  war,  supported  by 
boundless  resources,  overwhelmed  brave,  but  helpless,  bar- 
barism, with  the  irresistible  mass  and  weight  of  an  equally 
brave,  but  also  a  splendidly  equipped,  civilization.  But  let 
us  correct  our  very  natural  misconception  of  the  case.  The 
truth  is,  the  Gauls  were  by  no  means  a  wholly  uncivilized 
people,  and  they  were  a  really  formidable  foe  to  Rome.  For 
good  reason,  Rome  dreaded  them  with  immemorial  dread. 
One  of  the  saddest  and  most  shameful  of  the  early  traditions 
of  Roman  history  was  the  taking  and  sacking  of  the  city  by 
Gauls.  A  vast,  dense,  black  cloud  of  ever-threatened  irrup- 
tion hung,  growing,  in  the  quarter  of  the  Roman  sky  toward 
Gaul  and  Germany,  ready  to  break  on  Italy  and  pour  a  flood 
of  devastation  against  Rome  that  should  even  sweep  the  city 
from  the  face  of  the  globe.  Caesar's  bold  plan  was  to  open 
the  cloud  and  disperse  its  gathering  danger.  He  perhaps 
saved  Europe  to  civilization  and  to  Christianity.  Four  hun- 
dred years  later,  the  barbarians  pressed  again  against  the 
barriers  of  the  Roman  empire.  This  time  the  barriers  gave 
way,  and  the  floods  came  in.  But  meantime,  and  this  as  the 
result  of  Coesar's  work,  Gaul  itself,  indeed  all  Europe,  west 
and  south,  with  Africa,  too,  had  been  permanently  Roman- 
ized ;  and  there  was  moreover  now  a  Christian  Church  pre- 
pared to  welcome  the  inrushing  barbarians  to  her  bosom, 


Ccesar.  121 

and  make  them,  retaining  much,  no  doubt,  of  their  native 
fierceness  still,  yet  strangely  gentle  pupils  in  the  school  of 
Christ. 

With  how  much  far  forecast,  on  his  own  part,  of  all  this 
long  reach  of  influence,  to  be  exerted  through  his  deeds, 
on  the  future  fortune  of  Rome,  Caesar  accepted  and  admin- 
istered his  governorship  of  Gaul,  it  is  of  course  impossible 
now  to  say.  It  is  hard,  however,  not  to  feel  that  glorifying 
historians,  like  Mommsen,  of  Caesar,  have  found  much  states- 
manlike wisdom  in  Caesar's  career,  which  in  point  of  fact  it 
never  entered  the  great  Roman's  mind  to  conceive.  Provi- 
dence is  wiser  in  state  than  any  man,  and  it  is  poor  philos- 
ophy of  history  to  be  over-confident  in  projecting  back- 
ward upon  Caesar's  credit  for  foresight,  results  of  his  activ- 
ity that  in  all  probability  he  neither  planned,  nor  expected, 
nor  desired,  nor  even  conjectured.  The  historian  of  Caesar 
thus  magnifies  the  man  by  giving  him  adjuncts  not  his,  and 
by  applying  standards  of  measurement  too  large  to  be  laid 
off  against  any  one  but  God.  Caesar  was  wise  in  his  genera- 
tion. He  knew  how  to  make  himself  master  of  Rome.  Let 
him  have  his  praise.  But  he  was  not  a  prophet.  And  he 
was  too  selfish  to  be  a  patriot.  And  with  all  his  greatness, 
he  was  not  great  enough  to  be  a  lover  of  mankind.  The 
type  of  greatness  that  embraces  the  human  race,  that  antici- 
pates all  time,  was  born  into  this  world  with  Jesus  of  Naz- 
areth precisely  one  hundred  years  after  the  birth  of  Caesar. 
It  was  not  Caesar's  individual  fault  that  he  kept  within  the 
limits  of  the  ideas  of  the  non-Christian  ancient  world.  But 
so  it  is  not  to  be  made  his  individual  praise  that  he  over- 
passed those  limits;  for  he  did  not  overpass  them.  Caesar 
was  just  a  Roman,  with  Roman  traits,  both  good  and  bad, 
carried  to  their  highest  expression.  He  was  the  impersona- 
tion, the  idealization,  the  realization,  of  the  Roman  genius 
for  conquest  and  government.  He  had  the  cold  blood  and 
cruelty  of  Rome. 
6 


122  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Our  readers  will  observe,  as  they  go  forward  in  the  Com- 
mentaries, occasional  mention  made  of  Caesar's  absences, 
during  the  winters,  in  Italy.  These  absences  of  Csesar  from 
Gaul,  during  that  season  of  the  year  in  which  military  oper- 
ations were  usually  suspended,  were  not  for  the  purpose 
of  mere  pleasure  and  relaxation,  on  his  part,  in  the  capital. 
Caesar,  in  fact,  did  not  visit  the  capital.  Friends  and  follow- 
ers from  the  capital  visited  him  instead,  where  he  held  for 
them  almost  regal  court  at  Luca  (modern  Lucca)  in  North 
Italy.  These  Italian  winters  of  his  were  a  part,  an  essential 
part,  of  Caesar's  long,  patient,  watchful,  skillful,  audacious, 
successful,  tragic  game  in  Roman  politics.  The  senate  had 
banished  him — if  the  senate  intended  to  banish  him — to  Gaul, 
in  vain.  He  was  still  present  in  Rome  more  potently  than 
ever.  Our  readers  will  better  understand  the  relation  of 
Caesar's  experience  in  Gaul  to  the  rest  of  his  life,  if  we  pause 
long  enough  at  this  point  to  sketch  briefly  his  previous  career. 

Caius  Julius  Caesar  was  of  an  ancient  patrician  family  of 
Rome,  who  claimed  derivation  from  lulus,  son  of  Trojan 
v^Eneas.  The  word  Csesar  was  made  by  Caius  Julius  a  name 
so  illustrious,  that  it  came  afterward  to  be  adopted  by  his 
successors  in  power  at  Rome,  and  finally  thence  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  emperors  of  Germany,  and  to  the  autocrats  of 
Russia,  called  respectively  Kaiser  and  Czar.  Caesar  was 
politician  from  a  boy.  He  was  married  (or  perhaps  only 
betrothed)  early  enough  to  get  himself  divorced  at  seventeen, 
for  the  purpose  of  allying  himself  to  Cinna  through  a  second 
marriage  with  that  democratic  leader's  daughter.  This  wife, 
too,  the  dictator,  Sylla,  now  omnipotent  at  Rome,  advised 
young  Csesar  to  put  away.  Csesar  had  the  spirit  to  refuse 
compliance,  but  he  had  also  the  prudence  to  flee  from  Rome 
to  escape  the  dictator's  resentment.  Before  he  fled,  Sylla 
had  warned  him  of  his  danger  by  taking  away  his  office,  his 
inheritance,  his  dowry  by  his  wife.  When,  upon  Syila's 
death,  Caesar  got  back  to  Rome,  he  won  popular  favor  by 


Ccesar.  123 

bringing  an  indictment  for  extortion  in  Macedonia  against 
Dolabella.  His  taste  of  applause  as  public  speaker  excited 
him  to  become  a  master  of  eloquence.  He  repaired  to 
Rhodes  for  study  with  a  celebrated  rhetorician  there.  On 
his  way,  he  was  taken  by  pirates  who  asked  thirty  thousand 
dollars  in  ransom.  He  agreed  to  pay  this  sum,  but  at  the 
same  time  laughingly  told  the  pirates  that  if  they  knew  who 
he  was,  they  would  ask  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Let  me  but 
catch  you,  he  said,  and  I  will  crucify  you  to  a  man.  They 
thought  Caesar  a  merry  fellow;  but  he  promptly  got  together 
a  number  of  ships,  pursued  them,  captured  them,  and,  taking 
the  law  into  his  own  hands,  true  to  his  word  put  them  all  to 
death  on  crosses.  The  young  student  then  went  on  to  his 
rhetorical  professor. 

Having  been  chosen  pontifex,  he  returned  to  Rome,  where 
he  went  rapidly  through  a  succession  of  public  offices :  as 
quaestor,  bidding  for  popularity  by  pronouncing  a  eulogy  on 
his  aunt  Julia,  wife  of  the  redoubtable  democrat  Marius; 
as  aedile,  still  further  courting  the  favor  of  the  common 
people  by  entertainments  provided  on  a  scale  of  unmatched 
magnificence,  and  of  course  at  correspondingly  enormous 
expense.  The  result  was  to  plunge  him  millions  on  millions 
of  dollars  in  debt.  Now  occurred  the  conspiracy  of  Catiline, 
in  which  Caesar  himself  was  implicated,  in  the  suspicion  of 
some.  The  mere  existence  of  the  suspicion  tends  to  show 
how  active  and  how  unscrupulous  in  politics  Caesar  was 
held  to  be.  Mommsen,  the  German  historian  of  Rome 
already  before  alluded  to,  a  warm  eulogist  of  Caesar,  holds  it 
for  tolerably  certain  that  his  hero  was  in  fact  a  fellow-con- 
spirator with  Catiline ;  nor  does  he  on  that  account  (or  on 
any  other  account)  at  all  abate  the  great  man's  praise. 

He  wanted  to  be  pontifex  maximus,  that  is,  chief  priest  of 
the  Roman  religion.  Caesar  was  a  thorough-paced  skeptic, 
and  his  aim  in  this  matter  was  worldly-minded  in  the  ex- 
treme :  he  needed  the  office  as  a  refuge  from  his  creditors. 


124  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Without  it  he  would  have  to  flee  from  Rome.  A  rival  candi- 
date offered  to  pay  Caesar's  debts  for  him,  if  he  would  with- 
draw his  name  from  the  canvass.  "  I  would  double  my 
debt,  if  that  were  necessary,"  was  Caesar's  reply.  "I  shall  be 
pontifex  maximus  this  day  or  I  shall  be  an  exile,"  he  said  to 
his  mother  on  the  morning  of  the  election  day.  He  was 
triumphantly  elected.  The  next  year  saw  him  praetor.  At 
the  close  of  the  year's  prsetorship,  he  was,  in  due  course  of 
Roman  custom,  given  a  province  to  squeeze.  Spain  was  his 
lot.  He  here,  by  levying  war  on  the  native  tribes  bordering 
the  province,  found  means  to  amass  money  enough  to  ease 
him  of  his  debts,  which,  by  the  way,  to  the  pretty  sum  of 
five  millions  of  dollars,  his  friend  Crassus  had  had  to  become 
surety  for,  before  Caesar,  in  the  first  instance,  could  leave 
Rome  for  Spain.  From  Spain,  at  the  end  of  his  term  of 
office  in  that  province,  this  masterful  spirit  hastened  back  to 
Rome  to  run  for  the  consulship.  The  consulship  was  the 
top  round  in  the  ladder  of  Roman  political  ambition.  Caesar 
saw  all  things  possible  to  himself  once  chosen  consul.  He 
was  chosen.  His  colleague  was  Bibulus,  a  stiff  senatorial 
conservative,  joined  with  Cxsar  in  office  in  order  to  check 
that  politician's  popular  arts.  But  honest  Bibulus  became 
so  manageable  in  Caesar's  hands  that  there  might  nearly  as 
well  have  been  one  consul  instead  of  two.  In  fact,  it  was  a 
saying  at  Rome  that  the  two  consuls  were — Julius  and 
Caesar.  Caesar's  consulship,  in  its  bearing  on  his  own  per- 
sonal fortunes,  was  an  overflowing  success.  He  steadily 
opposed  the  oligarchy  of  the  senate  (for  the  Roman  republic, 
so-called,  was  in  reality  a  senatorial  oligarchy) — he  got  a  law 
enacted  for  distributing  lands  to  the  poor  (the  poor  being 
chiefly  the  soldiers  of  Pompey,  which  great  Roman  was  now 
to  be  made  Caesar's  friend) — he  won  the  favor  of  the  knights 
by  relieving  them,  as  the  senate  had  refused  to  do,  from  a 
burdensome  contract  into  which  they  had  entered  with  the 
state  for  collection  of  revenue  ;  in  short,  he  made  himself 


Casar.  125 

an  overwhelmingly  popular  man.  It  was  now  that,  with 
Pompey,  the  most  honored  man  in  Rome,  and  Crassus,  per- 
haps the  richest,  Csesar,  undoubtedly  the  ablest,  formed  that 
famous  political  fellowship  which  has  acquired  the  name  of 
the  first  triumvirate. 

Caesar's  consulship  expired,  he  went  to  Gaul  as  proconsul. 
His  term  of  proconsular  government  was  at  first  fixed  for 
five  years,  an  unusual  length  of  term,  afterward,  however, 
extended  to  ten  years,  though  eight  years  was  the  extreme 
limit  of  time  that  Caesar  actually  spent  as  governor  of  Gaul. 
Before  the  other  two  years  were  done  he  had  outgrown 
Gaul.  In  four  years  more  he  had  made  himself  emperor  of 
the  world,  in  every  thing  but  the  name,  and  then,  after  less 
than  twelve  months'  enjoyment  of  the  long-coveted  su- 
premacy, had  fallen  in  death,  under  numerous  wounds  from 
his  friends,  at  the  base  of  the  statue  of  that  former  colleague 
of  his,  great  Pompey,  against  whom  he  had  meantime  waged 
deadly  war,  and  who  had  himself  also  but  a  short  time  be- 
fore been  treacherously  slain.  It  is  a  dreadful  history. 
Caesar's  glory  is  emblazoned  in  blood. 

For  the  subsequent  and  closing  parts  of  his  career,  Caesar's 
campaigns  in  Gaul,  which  we  are  here  about  to  study  in  his 
own  record  of  them,  were  a  necessary  preparation.  It  was 
for  these  campaigns  that  he  at  first  obtained  control  of  the 
legions  which  were  soon  to  be  the  weapon  in  his  hand  for 
hewing  his  way  to  sovereign  power.  It  was  in  these  cam- 
paigns that  he  disciplined  those  legions  to  become,  perhaps, 
the  best  soldiers  the  world  ever  saw,  and  that  he  attached 
them  so  remarkably  to  his  own  person  and  fortune.  The 
whole  course  of  subsequent  history  would  have  been  incal- 
culably different,  but  for  the  momentous  transactions  which 
we  learn  of  from  Csesar's  Commentaries.  The  occurrences 
which  the  Anabasis  of  Xenophon  relates,  have  their  bearing 
on  the  general  history  of  mankind  in  but  an  incidental  and, 
as  it  were,  fortuitous  way.  In  Csesar's  Commentaries,  on 


126  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  contrary,  we  give  our  attention  to  affairs  that  directly 
affected  the  destiny  of  the  civilized  world. 

Caesar's  style  is  correspondingly  different  from  the  style 
of  Xenophon.  There  is  a  largeness  of  handling,  a  virility,  a 
force,  in  the  Roman's  work,  which  in  the  Grecian's  we  do 
not  find.  In  compensation,  Xenophon  has  more  grace,  more 
humanity,  than  Caesar.  Caesar,  we  may  as  well  frankly  con- 
fess it,  has  stretches  that  are  drier  than  any  in  Xenophon. 
We  make  our  peace  with  Latin  specialists  for  this  compara- 
tive slight  to  an  author  who  is  universally,  with  good  reason, 
their  admiration  and  delight,  by  quoting  here  a  sentence  from 
learned  Roger  Ascham,  tutor  to  Queen  Elizabeth.  In  his 
"  Schoolmaster,"  this  early  and  excellent  writer  on  educa- 
tion, says  :  "  In  Caesar's  Commentaries  is  seen  the  unspotted 
propriety  of  the  Latin  tongue."  We  may  adapt  a  familiar 
quotation,  and,  of  Caesar,  with  the  change  of  a  word  or  two, 
say  exactly  what  stately  Edmund  Spenser  said  of  Chaucer : 

Dan  Chaucer,  well  of  English  undenled, 
becomes 

Great  Julius,  well  of  Latin  undefiled. 

This  we  think  with  all  our  heart,  and  yet  believe  that  our 
readers  will  be  contented  to  have  less  of  his  narrative  in 
Caesar's  own  words,  than,  in  the  case  of  Xenophon,  we  were 
sure  they  would  unanimously  demand.  Undoubtedly  one 
feels  that  Caesar  is  of  the  two  the  greater  man.  But  un- 
doubtedly, also,  one  feels  that  of  the  two  Xenophon  is  the 
more  pleasing  writer. 

Out  of  the  eight  books  comprised  in  Caesar's  Gallic  Com- 
mentaries, the  preparatory  student  is  usually  required  to 
read  only  four.  We,  however,  with  our  accustomed  liberality 
toward  our  friends,  shall  try  to  give  them  a  fairly  satisfactory 
account  of  the  entire  work.  Each  book  recounts  the  events 
and  incidents,  these  and  no  more,  of  one  campaign,  covering 
a  military  year  of  time. 


Cxsar.  12  7 

FIRST  BOOK. 

The  first  book,  after  a  bit  of  geography  to  begin  with,  oc- 
cupies itself  with  two  series  of  military  operations  on  Caesar's 
part,  one  directed  against  the  Helvetians,  (Swiss,)  and  one 
against  a  body  of  Germans  who  had  invaded  Gaul.  Our 
readers  will,  not  only  here,  but  elsewhere  at  points  through- 
out the  volume,  find  in  the  elegant  colored  map  provided  by 
the  enlightened  liberality  of  the  publishers,  a  convenient 
elucidation  of  the  text. 

It  seems  that  there  is  among  the  Helvetians  a  man  with 
ideas.  Or-get'o-rix  is  his  name.  This  Orgetorix  proposes  to 
his  countrymen  a  whole  national  migration.  To  prevent, 
or  rather  to  turn  back,  this  movement,  deemed  by  Csesar 
threatening  to  the  Roman  province  of  Gaul-beyond-the- 
Alps — a  margin  of  territory  along  the  Mediterranean  coast, 
with  Marseilles  (Massilia)  for  its  chief  town— was  the  first 
object  of  the  new  governor's  first  Gallic  campaign. 

The  Helvetians  have  already,  after  two  years  of  provident 
and  laborious  preparation,  begun  to  move.  Their  towns  and 
villages  burned  behind  them,  they  are  already  on  the  banks 
of  the  Rhone,  seeking  the  most  eligible  route  to  their  desti- 
nation, which  is  a  district  of  country  lying  to  the  west,  out- 
side their  native  mountain  fastnesses. 

But  Caesar  appears.  They  ask  his  permission  to  cross  the 
Roman  province.  Caesar  will  answer  them  in  two  weeks. 
The  two  weeks  Caesar  spends  in  putting  himself  in  safe  con- 
dition to  answer  them  no.  The  Helvetian  emigrants  persist- 
ing make  several  attempts  to  pass  the  Rhone,  which  failing, 
they  turn  in  another  direction. 

Ca?sar  posts  to  Italy.  Quickly  back  again  with  ample  re-en- 
forcements, he  hears  from  the  ^Eduans  that  the  Helvetians 
are  overrunning  their  country.  The  ^Eduans  were  old  allies 
of  Rome.  Caesar  undertook  to  help  them.  He  follows  up  the 
line  of  the  emigrant  Helvetians.  Seizing  his  opportunity, 


iz8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

he  falls  upon  a  fourth  part  of  the  Helvetian  horde,  left  still 
upon  the  hither  bank  of  a  river  they  were  crossing,  and  cuts 
them  in  pieces.  Caesar  recalls  that  it  was  this  particular 
canton  of  the  Swiss  which  had,  in  a  former  generation,  slain 
a  Roman  consul  and  compelled  that  Roman  consul's  army 
to  pass  under  the  yoke.  A  coincidence,  he  thinks,  that  the 
same  canton  should  be  the  one  now  to  feel  the  stroke  of 
retribution.  Caesar  had  a  kinsman  who  suffered  in  that  an- 
cient calamity.  This  personal  wrong  also  was  redressed. 
Readers  will  be  interested  to  know  just  how  close  home  to 
Caesar  had  come  the  wrong  thus  vicariously  avenged.  The 
man  concerned  was  the  grandfather  of  Caesar's  father-in- 
law  ! 

The  Helvetian  body,  the  three  fourths  that  were  left  of 
them,  sued  for  peace.  Caesar  demanded  hostages.  They 
were  accustomed,  so  they  haughtily  replied,  to  receive  hos- 
tages, not  to  give  them.  The  great  multitude  staggered  for- 
ward. Caesar  dogged  them  watchfully. 

But  his  provisions  were  failing.  The  vEduans  had  prom- 
ised to  victual  his  army.  They  paltered  and  postponed. 
Caesar  at  length  learned  what  the  difficulty  was.  There  was 
one  vEduan  who  had  the  spirit  not  to  be  a  Romanizer. 
Caesar  guessed  his  man.  It  was  a  brother  of  Div'i-ti'a-cus, 
and  Divitiacus  was  a  chief  whom  Csesar  could  not  afford  to 
offend.  This  man,  Dumnorix  by  name,  had  influence  enough 
to  make  the  ^Eduans  keep  back  the  promised  supplies. 
Caesar  warned  him  to  beware,  but  forgave  him  this  time  for 
his  brother's  sake. 

The  Romans  now  turn  aside  in  quest  of  provisions.  The 
Helvetians  mistook  the  movement  for  retreat.  They  pursue, 
and  give  Caesar  his  chance.  They  fight  at  disadvantage, 
and  after  a  desperate  struggle  are  defeated. 

But  the  duel  was  long,  and  for  a  time  it  even  seemed 
doubtful.  When  finally  the  Romans  prevail,  the  emigrants 
retire,  one  part  up  a  mountain  near  by,  and  the  other  to 


Ccesar.  129 

their  baggage  trains.  No  Roman,  Csesar  testifies,  saw  that 
day  the  back  of  a  foe.  The  conflict  lasted  all  the  long 
summer  afternoon.  It  was  prolonged  at  the  wagons  far  into 
the  night.  The  end  came  at  last,  and  the  Romans  got  pos- 
session of  the  emigrants'  baggage  and  encampment.  The 
daughter,  and  a  son,  of  Orgetorix  were  among  the  captives. 

All  this  was  a  good  while  ago,  but  it  was  highly  real 
when  it  happened.  Caesar's  mention  of  Orgetorix's  daughter 
irresistibly  stimulates  the  imagination  of  the  thoughtful 
modern  reader  of  his  story,  to  conceive  the  multiplied  and 
diversified  distress  endured  by  the  Swiss,  in  this  experience 
of  armed  and  fighting  migration.  Old  men,  tender  women, 
little  children,  there  were,  huddled  helplessly  together  in  the 
Helvetian  quarters — bereavement,  destitution,  death,  captivity 
worse  than  death,  staring  them  in  the  face — while  husbands, 
sons,  fathers,  brothers,  sweethearts,  by  scores  and  by  hun- 
dreds, fell  before  their  very  eyes,  bravely  but  vainly  fighting 
there  for  every  thing  dear  to  the  heart  of  man.  War,  Csesar, 
with  Roman  magniloquence,  called  this  dreadful  business. 
Butchery  would  be  a  better  name. 

Caesar  relates  that  about  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand 
emigrant  survivors  of  the  struggle  marched- — men,  women, 
and  children,  think  of  it,  and  after  an  endless  afternoon  of 
such  agony — all  that  night,  without  a  moment  to  rest,  and 
wearily  on  and  on — until  on  the  fourth  day  they  reach,  "  all 
that  was  left  of  them,"  the  country  of  the  Lin'go-nes.  To  the 
Lingones,  Caesar — choking  down  any  gasp  of  sympathy  for 
the  sufferers  he  might  have  the  weakness  to  feel  rising  in 
his  Roman  breast — sends  word  that  they  must  give  no  aid 
whatever,  not  so  much  as  a  crust  of  bread,  to  the  Helve- 
tians, on  pain  of  being  regarded  by  him  in  the  same  light  as 
were  they.  The  Romans,  an  unusual  thing  for  Romans 
under  Caesar,  have  to  wait  three  days  before  pursuing  the 
refugees. 

With  arithmetical  calmness,  Caesar  gives  the  number  of  the 
6* 


130  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

enemy,  according  to  lists  found  in  the  captured  camp  of  the 
Helvetians.  There  had  set  out  from  home  in  all  three 
hundred  and  sixty-eight  thousand  emigrants.  There  returned, 
for  there  was  a  return,  under  what  auspices  effected  we  shall 
presently  see,  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand.  In  round 
numbers,  a  quarter  of  a  million  souls  perished  or  were  made 
slaves,  as  the  result  of  that  disastrous  exodus. 

Excavations  made  under  the  munificent  auspices  of  Napo- 
leon III.,  uncovered,  in  some  of  the  localities  identified  as 
scenes  of  Caesar's  Gallic  slaughters,  vast  deposits  of  human 
remains,  in  which  could  be  distinguished  the  skeletons  of 
men,  women,  and  children. 

Mr.  J.  A.  Froude  has  written  an  elaborately  studied  and 
highly  readable  life,  by  him  entitled  "  Sketch,"  of  Julius  Caesar. 
The  work  is  conceived  and  is  executed  throughout  in  a  spirit 
of  unbounded,  not  to  say  unscrupulous,  ascription  to  the  au- 
thor's hero.  A  fair  estimate — that  of  Napoleon  III.,  biogra- 
pher surely  devoted  enough  to  Caesar — makes  the  actual  fight- 
ing force  engaged  in  the  struggle  just  described  nearly  equal 
on  the  two  sides,  not  far  from  sixty  thousand  men  to  each. 
The  Helvetians  may  have  had  a  few  thousand  more  than  the 
Romans,  perhaps  seventy  thousand  against  sixty  thousand. 
Mr.  Froude,  however,  apparently  forgetting  that  the  great 
mixed  multitude  of  the  emigrants  did  not  raise  to  a  very 
high  figure  their  effective  combatant  strength,  says  that  the 
Helvetians  were  "  enormously  superior "  in  numbers  to 
Caesar's  army. 

Mr.  Froude  also  says  that  "  Caesar  treated  the  poor  creat- 
ures [the  survivors]  with  kindness  and  care."  Caesar,  after 
unconditional  surrender  on  the  part  of  the  fugitives,  com- 
manded the  Al-lob'ro-ges  to  furnish  them  with  plenty  to  eat, 
and  sent  them,  so  victualed  at  the  expense  of  his  allies, 
back  to  their  own  deserted  and  desolated  homes  with  orders 
there  to  rebuild  their  towns  and  villages.  This  constituted 
Caesar's  "kindness  and  care,"  and  this  constituted  the  whole 


C<zsar.  131 

of  it.  Caesar,  regardless  of  future  biographers,  is  at  pains 
to  let  it  be  known  that  he,  for  his  part,  had  no  sentimental 
reasons  for  his  "kindness  and  care."  He  says:  "This  he 
did,  chiefly,  on  this  account,  because  he  was  unwilling  that 
the  country  from  which  the  Helvetians  had  departed,  should 
be  untenanted,  lest  the  Germans,  who  dwell  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Rhine,  should,  allured  by  the  excellence  of  the 
lands,  cross  over  from  their  own  territories  into  those  of  the 
Helvetians,  and  become  borderers  upon  the  provinces  of 
Gaul  and  the  Allobroges." 

Caesar,  by  the  way,  saved  his  character,  as  a  sound  practical 
man  of  affairs  and  no  sentimentalist,  by  excepting  from  his 
"  kindness  and  care  "  some  six  thousand  men  of  the  Helve- 
tians who,  after  the  general  surrender,  made  off  in  the  night 
to  seek  safety  for  themselves  rather  than  depend  upon  the 
clemency  of  their  conqueror.  "  These  he  considered,  when 
brought  back,  in  the  light  of  enemies,"  a  pregnant  expression 
from  the  frugal  pen  of  Caesar.  The  euphemism  means  that 
he  had  six  thousand  unarmed  and  helpless  prisoners  of  war 
butchered  in  cold  blood.  The  people  through  whose  terri- 
tory the  escape  was  attempted,  were  required  by  Caesar  to 
do  the  catching  and  bringing  in  of  the  fugitives. 

Thus  ended  the  Helvetian  war — war,  to  indulge  Caesar  in 
his  own  non-descriptive  word.  The  future  dictator  had  be- 
gun prosperously  in  Gaul.  Already  he  had  made  up  his 
score  to  one  quarter  of  the  full  million  of  human  lives  that 
he  must  take  in  Gaul,  to  prepare  himself  for  by  and  by  crossing 
the  Rubicon,  on  his  way  to  empire  and  to  bloody  death. 

Here  let  the  thought  of  that  expiation  awaiting  this  ruth- 
less conqueror  give  us  check  and  pause.  Our  indignation 
and  horror  must  not  hurry  us  into  injustice  toward  Caesar. 
This  was  not  Cassar,  except  as  Csesar  was  Rome.  Hardly 
more,  perhaps,  was  it  Rome,  except  as  Rome  was  the  ancient 
pagan  world.  We  say  this,  but  we  feel  that  we  ought  to  qual- 
ify with  an  exception  in  favor  of  the  Greeks.  Xenophon. 


132  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

for  example,  relating  an  incident  of  peculiar  distress  to 
his  enemies,  comments  upon  it  with  humanity  :  "A  dreadful 
spectacle  was  then  to  be  seen."  No  such  token  of  sympa- 
thy, on  the  part  of  the  soldier  and  author,  even  once  relieves 
the  arctic  pages  of  Caesar.  Sentiment  like  that  was  Grecian, 
not  Roman.  In  the  present  instance,  however,  we  have  no 
reason  for  supposing  otherwise  than  that  the  wretched  Hel- 
vetians would,  in  the  place  of  conquerors,  have  been  every 
whit  as  cruel  as  were  the  Romans.  It  is  natural  to  side  with 
the  weak.  But  we  must  in  doing  so  take  care  not  to  be  un- 
just to  the  strong.  And,  here  at  least,  we  may  comfort  our- 
selves with  remembering  it  was  for  the  good  of  mankind  that 
the  strong  should  prevail. 

Victorious  Caesar  now  sat  at  the  receipt  of  congratulations. 
Ambassadors  from  almost  all  parts  of  Gaul  hastened  to  his 
head-quarters  to  thank  him  for  his  services.  One  would 
like  much  to  know  with  what  degree  of  literal  accuracy  Caesar 
has  condescended,  in  that  indirect  fashion  of  his,  the  oralio 
obliqua  so  called,  (which  is  the  delight  of  drill-masters  in  Latin 
desiring  to  initiate  their  pupils  into  the  mysteries  of  the  re- 
flexive pronoun  and  of  the  subjunctive  mood) — one,  we  say, 
would  gladly  know  with  what  measure  of  regard  for  strict 
fidelity  to  fact,  Caesar  has  condescended  to  make  his  oblique 
report  of  the  speeches  delivered  to  him  by  these  effusive 
ambassadors  ! 

The  crowded  first  Gallic  campaign  of  Caesar  is  to  be  closed 
with  a  series  of  operations  better  deserving,  than  did  the 
slaughter  of  the  pilgrim  Helvetians,  to  be  styled  a  war. 
A  certain  Ar'i-o-vis'tus,  German  prince  and  conqueror, 
invoked  at  first  as  ally  by  one  of  the  Gallic  tribes  at  war 
among  themselves,  has  turned  intolerable  oppressor  and 
usurper,  menacing  especially  the  prosperity  and  power  of  the 
^Eduans. 

Caesar  at  once  resolves  on  interfering.  His  first  step  of 
course  is  to  send  an  embassy  to  Ariovistus.  Ariovistus 


Casar.  133 

must  meet  Cresar  in  conference.  Ariovistus  demurs,  and 
Caesar  insists.  There  is  thrust  and  parry  between  the  two  in 
diplomatic  interchange.  Caesar  stings  Ariovistus  with  a 
charge  of  ingratitude  to  himself  and  the  Roman  people. 
Ariovistus  retorts  that  Rome  governed  her  conquered  as  she 
chose,  and  that  he,  Ariovistus,  claimed  a  similar  privilege 
for  himself.  Let  Caesar  come  on  if  he  liked.  He,  Caesar, 
would  soon  learn  what  Germans,  inured  from  infancy  to 
war,  and  never  once  during  fourteen  years  sheltered  under  a 
roof,  were  able  to  accomplish. 

Whatever  the  effect  produced  on  Caesar's  own  mind  by  Ari- 
ovistus's  bold  attitude,  Caesar's  camp  at  any  rate  is  now  the 
scene  of  singular  commotion.  Staggering  reports  reach  the 
soldiers  respecting  the  enemy  they  are  about  marching  to 
meet.  The  Germans  are  of  gigantic  stature,  they  are  in- 
credibly brave  and  incredibly  skillful  in  arms.  Their  very 
looks  are  frightful.  You  could  not  withstand  the  mere 
fierceness  of  their  eyes.  At  these  reports,  the  whole  army 
of  Caesar  is  panic-stricken. 

The  civilians — present  in  camp  as  friends  of  Caesar,  place- 
holders there  perhaps  by  personal  favor  and  spectators  rather 
than  sharers  of  the  campaign — were  the  first  to  feel,  and  they 
communicated,  the  fright.  Urging  various  reasons  why  it 
was  necessary  for  them  to  leave,  some  of  these  begged  Cassar 
kindly  to  excuse  them  and  let  them  withdraw ;  while  others, 
ashamed  to  appear  afraid,  yet  could  not  with  all  their  efforts 
keep  their  countenances  composed,  or  even  always  restrain 
their  tears.  They  got  together  in  groups  of  mutual  com- 
miseration, and,  hidden  within  the  tents,  gave  themselves  up 
to  moans  of  despair.  Throughout  the  camp,  there  was  a 
universal  making  of  wills.  (This  feature  of  the  panic  is  fairly 
farcical.  If  the  extremity  was  so  desperate,  who,  pray,  was 
going  to  carry  the  sealed  testaments  to  Rome  and  see  that 
they  were  duly  executed  ?)  It  was  a  scene  of  general  demor- 
alization. The  most  experienced  soldiers  did  not  escape  the 


134  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

spreading  contagion.  Officers  even  began  to  yield.  They 
did  not  fear  the  enemy,  not  they,  but  the  narrow  roads,  the 
vast  forests,  the  failing  supplies !  Csesar  was  warned  that 
his  soldiers  would  not  obey  a  command  to  advance. 

Here  was  a  situation  for  a  general.  But  there  was  a 
general  for  the  situation.  Csesar  summoned  his  officers 
to  council  and  lectured  them  sharply.  He  reasoned  with 
them,  but  he  also  brought  his  will  to  bear  upon  them. 
In  short,  he  used  the  language  of  one  born  to  command,  as 
well  as  of  one  born  to  persuade.  It  was  the  will,  no  doubt, 
quite  as  much  as  the  reasons,  that  prevailed.  But  if  Csesar 
in  fact  overbore  with  his  will,  he  did  not  disdain  to  give  his 
centurions  a  chance  to  save  their  own  self-respect.  They 
might,  if  they  preferred,  feel  that  they  were  overborne  by  his 
representations.  He  shrewdly  excited  the  spirit  of  mutual 
emulation.  He  said  if  the  rest  of  the  army  all  failed  him, 
he  would  march  on  with  his  tenth  legion  alone.  Caesar's 
tenth  legion,  by  the  way,  was  his  favorite  body  of  soldiers. 
It  became  famous,  immortal  indeed,  in  history.  It  is  a  prov- 
erb still  for  loyalty,  valor,  effectiveness. 

Csesar  frankly  admits  that  his  address  told  surprisingly  on 
his  hearers.  The  general  feeling  was  completely  changed. 
Enthusiasm  took  the  place  of  panic.  The  tenth  legion  sent 
to  thank  their  commander  for  his  compliment  to  them. 
They  were  ready,  they  said,  to  march  to  the  war.  The  cen- 
turions now  generally  explained,  each  one  that  he  had  not 
been  afraid,  that  he  had  not  taken  it  upon  him  to  distrust 
Caesar's  wisdom.  They  were,  each  man  of  them,  too  well 
instructed  in  duty. 

Csesar  was  prudently  gracious  and  he  accepted  their  ex- 
cuses. Hastened  instead  of  retarded  by  the  mutinous  state 
of  his  army,  he  broke  camp  and  set  out  in  the  fourth  watch, 
that  is,  between  three  and  six  in  the  morning.  (The  Roman 
night  was  divided  into  four  watches  of  three  hours  each,  the 
length  of  the  hour  varying  with  the  season  of  the  year.) 


Ctesar.  135 

Seven  days  of  Caesar's  marching  brings  him  within  about 
twenty  miles  of  Ariovistus. 

Ariovistus  hears  of  an  approach  so  important  to  himself, 
and  sends  ambassadors  to  Caesar.  A  conference,  to  be  held 
in  the  saddle,  was  agreed  upon.  Caesar  had  to  extemporize 
a  cavalry  escort  that  he  could  trust.  He  dismounted  the 
Gallic  cavalry,  and  on  their  horses  seated  his  tenth  legion. 
The  extemporized  cavalry  were  well  pleased  with  the  ar- 
rangement. One  of  them  facetiously  remarked:  'You  have 
done  more  for  us  than  you  promised.  You  promised  to 
make  us  your  pretorian  cohort.  But  here  we  are  all  of  us 
knights.'  (The  Latin  word  for  horseman  meant  also  mem- 
ber of  a  certain  privileged  order,  namely,  the  knights.  It  is 
fair,  however,  to  apprise  our  readers  that  there  is  another 
explanation  of  the  soldier's  pleasantry.  According  to  this 
other  explanation,  there  is  no  pun  in  the  case.  The  soldier 
simply  felicitates  himself  with  his  comrades  on  their  good 
fortune  in  being  converted  from  foot-soldiers  into  cavalry. 
We  advise  our  readers  to  choose  the  first  explanation,  and, 
with  undisturbed  confidence,  enjoy  their  pun.  Those,  how- 
ever, who  take  Dr.  Johnson's  severe  view  of  puns,  as  worth- 
less wit,  are  supplied  with  their  alternative.) 

We  can  afford  to  skip  the  pages  of  oblique  report  in  which 
Caesar  gives  his  account  of  what  passed  between  the  two 
generals  in  their  conference.  Again  there  was  thrust  and 
parry  on  either  side ;  but  the  result  of  course  was  that  they 
parted  without  arriving  at  any  agreement.  A  movement  on 
the  part  of  the  German  cavalry  escort  was  interpreted  by  the 
Romans  as  hostile.  Caesar  on  this  withdrew.  He  was  solic- 
itous, he  says,  that  no  chance  should  be  given  the  enemy  for 
saying  that  they  had  been  ensnared  at  the  conference.  On 
a  signal  subsequent  occasion,  as  our  readers  will  see,  Caesar 
was  less  solicitous. 

Battle  cannot  now  be  much  longer  postponed.  However, 
Caesar  draws  up  his  army  before  Ariovistus  in  challenge  to 


136  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

engagement,  day  after  day,  without  result.  A  description 
given  of  the  German  military  method  is  interesting.  (We 
use,  for  our  extracts  in  strict  translation  from  Caesar,  chiefly 
the  version  of  Professor  William  Duncan,  of  the  University 
of  Aberdeen.  A  more  accessible,  but  far  inferior,  work  is 
the  translation  printed  in  Bohn's  Classical  Library.) 
Caesar : 

They  had  about  six  thousand  horse,  who  chose  a  like  number  out  of 
the  foot,  each  his  man,  and  all  remarkable  for  strength  and  agility. 
These  continually  accompanied  them  in  battle,  and  served  them  as  a 
rear-guard,  to  which,  when  hard  pressed,  they  might  retire  ;  if  the  ac- 
tion became  dangerous,  they  advanced  to  their  relief  ;  if  any  horseman 
was  considerably  wounded,  and  fell  from  his  horse,  they  gathered  round 
to  defend  him ;  if  speed  was  required,  either  for  a  hasty  pursuit,  or  sud- 
den retreat,  they  were  become  so  nimble  and  alert  by  continual  exercise, 
that,  laying  hold  of  the  manes  of  their  horses,  they  could  run  as  fast  as 
they. 

Ariovistus  at  length  hazards  an  attack.  This  was  about 
midday.  A  hot  fight  raged  all  the  afternoon.  From  some 
German  prisoners  taken,  Caesar  learned  at  evening  the  reason 
why  Ariovistus  had  been  so  slow  in  coming  to  an  engage- 
ment. It  seems  the  German  matrons,  who  practiced  some 
sort  of  divination,  warned  him  not  to  fight  until  the  new 
moon. 

The  Germans  now  prepare  for  the  inevitable  decisive  en- 
counter. They  marshal  their  army  by  cantons  or  tribes,  of 
which  Caesar  enumerates  seven,  all  with  barbarous  names. 
They  surround  the  whole  army  with  their  chariots  and 
wagons,  on  which  are  placed  their  women,  who,  with  dishev- 
eled hair  and  in  tears,  implore  the  warriors,  moving  forward 
to  battle,  not  to  deliver  them  into  Roman  slavery. 

Caesar  quietly  introduces  a  change  in  the  organization  of 
the  legion.  Over  each  legion  he  sets  a  lieutenant  and  a 
quaestor  to  act  as  witnesses,  and  so  as  stimulators,  of  the  valor 
of  the  men.  Previously  to  this  there  seems  not  to  have  been 


Ccesar.  137 

any  unity  given  to  the  legion  by  the  existence  of  a  general 
officer  for  the  whole  body.  Caesar  this  time  commences  the 
attack  himself.  The  enemy  meet  him  more  than  half  way. 
They  rush  forward  so  prompt  and  so  swift,  that  the  battle  is 
joined  hand  in  hand  before  javelins  can  be  thrown.  The 
Germans  form  a  phalanx.  On  this  close-locked  array,  with 
its  impenetrable  front  of  shield  to  shield,  the  Roman  soldiers, 
some  of  them,  in  their  eager  bravery,  leaped  up  and  with 
their  hands  pulling  down  the  shields  stabbed  at  the  bearers 
from  above. 

Caesar's  attack  was  successful  on  the  right.  But  on  the 
left  the  Romans  suffered.  A  timely  re- enforcement  sup- 
ported them  at  that  point,  and  along  the  whole  line  the  Ger- 
mans gave  way.  They  fled,  fifty  miles  without  stopping,  to 
the  Rhine.  A  few  escaped,  among  them,  Ariovistus.  All 
the  rest,  dryly  observes  Caesar,  "  our  cavalry  slew."  Ario- 
vistus had  two  wives,  (monogamy,  however,  was  the  rule, 
polygamy  the  exception,  among  the  Germans,)  who  both  per- 
ished in  this  flight.  There  were  two  daughters.  Of  these 
one  was  killed,  another  captured. 

The  rumor  of  this  rout  reached  a  body  of  Germans  who 
had  come  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  intending  to  cross,  and 
sent  them  back  home.  Their  retreat  was  not  without  loss, 
for  the  Gauls  near  the  river  followed  them  and  destroyed 
many  lives. 

In  his  grand  way,  Caesar  closes  the  first  book  of  his  Com- 
mentaries as  follows  : 

Caesar  having  in  one  campaign  put  an  end  to  two  very  considerable 
wars,  went  into  winter-quarters  somewhat  sooner  than  the  season  of  the 
year  required.  He  distributed  his  army  among  the  Seq'ua-ni,  left  La- 
bienus  to  command  in  his  absence,  and  set  out  himself  for  Cisalpine 
Gaul,  to  preside  in  the  assembly  of  the  states. 

The  winter-quarters  of  a  Roman  army  had  much  the  char- 
acter of  a  permanent  town.  They  occupied  a  considerable 
area.  They  were  fortified  in  almost  every  conceivable  way. 


138  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

They  were  supplied  with  conveniences  of  various  kinds,  like 
the  cities  of  the  period.  Hither.  Gaul,  or  Cisalpine  Gaul,  was 
Northern  Italy.  The  assizes  spoken  of  were  sessions  of  a 
proconsular  court  such  as  was  customarily  held  in  Roman 
provinces  for  the  administration  of  justice.  Without  neglect- 
ing these  official  duties  of  his,  Caesar,  we  know,  managed  be- 
sides to  pay  some  attention  to  his  own  personal  plans  for 
getting  on  in  the  world,  though  of  this  it  does  not  belong  to 
the  purpose  of  the  Commentaries  to  speak. 

SECOND  BOOK. 

Caesar's  winter  in  Luca  is  disturbed,  perhaps  not  disagree- 
ably to  himself,  by  reports  brought  to  him  that  the  Belgians 
are  "  conspiring  "  against  the  Roman  people.  The  Belgians 
were  made  up  of  different  tribes,  who  now  all  exchange  hos- 
tages among  themselves,  in  pledge  of  mutual  good  faith  for 
the  purpose  contemplated.  Caesar  gives  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  reasons  for  this  hostile  confederation  on  the  part  of 
the  Belgians.  He  might  have  spared  himself  his  pains. 
There  was  one  sufficient  reason  to  the  Belgians  for  entering 
into  their  league  against  Rome — they  did  not  wish  to  be 
Rome's  slaves. 

Caesar  at  once  raises  two  new  legions  in  Hither  Gaul,  that 
part  of  his  province  in  which  he  then  was.  The  Roman 
legion,  by  the  way,  was,  in  the  number  of  men  composing 
it,  a  somewhat  variable  quantity.  Originally,  the  number 
was  three  thousand  foot  with  three  hundred  horse.  Later  it 
went  up  to  four,  five,  and  even  six  thousand  men.  Caesar's 
legions  have  been  differently  estimated  ;  they  were  probably 
about  forty-five  hundred  strong.  Caesar  seldom  takes  care 
to  let  us  know  the  exact  numerical  strength  of  his  own  army. 
Habitually,  too,  he  avoids  telling  the  loss  and  waste  of  men 
that  he  surfers.  We  only  read  from  time  to  time  of  his  levy- 
ing new  legions.  His  auxiliary  forces  are  usually  a  pretty 
indefinite  addition  to  his  strength. 


Casar.  139 

Sudden  rapid  movement  on  his  part  has  the  usual  effect 
on  the  enemy.  The  Remi  (Rheims,  pronounce  Reemz,  is 
the  modern  form  bequeathed  from  this  Roman  name  of 
the  Belgic  tribe)  are  fairly  scared  into  poltroonery.  They 
send  ambassadors  to  Caesar,  and  make  an  abject  surrender 
of  themselves  and  of  all  their  possessions  into  Caesar's  hands. 
They  purge  themselves  of  fault  in  his  eyes,  by  declaring  that 
they  had  not  conspired  with  the  rest,  and  by  volunteering 
information  about  what  their  brethren  are  doing.  The  poor 
cravens  say  that  the  (patriotic)  infatuation  of  the  Belgians  is 
so  great  that  they,  the  Remi,  could  in  no  wise  keep  back 
even  their  own  kindred,  the  Sues-si-o'nes  (Soissons  is  the 
modern  derivative)  from  joining  the  confederacy. 

The  Remi  are.  like  the  ^Eduans,  after  Caesar's  own  heart. 
He  gets  the  following  statistics  of  numbers  from  his  forward 
informants — we  give  them  in  Caesar's  own  summary : 

He  found  that  the  Suessiones  had  within  their  territories  twelve  forti- 
fied towns,  and  promised  to  bring  into  the  field  fifty  thousand  men  : 
the  like  number  had  been  stipulated  by.  the  Nervians,  who,  inhabiting 
the  remotest  provinces  of  Gaul,  were  esteemed  the  most  fierce  and  war- 
like of  all  the  Belgian  nations :  that  the  At're-ba'tians  were  to  furnish 
fifteen  thousand,  the  Am'bi-a'ni  ten  thousand,  the  Mort-ni  twenty-five 
thousand,  the  Men'a-pians  nine  thousand,  the  Cal'e-tes  ten  thousand, 
the  Vel'o-cas'sians  and  Ver'o-man'du-ans  the  like  number  ;  the  At'u-at'- 
i-ci  twenty-nine  thousand  ;  and  the  Con-dru-'sians,  Eb'u-ro'nes,  Caerce'- 
sians,  and  Pae-ma'ni,  all  comprehended  under  the  common  name  of  Ger- 
mans, forty  thousand. 

Let  not  our  readers  shudder  at  the  aspect  of  these  bristling 
proper  names.  We  show  them  for  this  once  here,  but  we 
shall,  for  the  most  part,  keep  them  discreetly  out  of  sight 
hereafter. 

Caesar  patted  those  accommodating  Romanizers,  the  Remi, 
on  the  back,  told  them  to  have  their  whole%  senate  paraded 
before  him,  and  to  bring  him  the  children  of  their  chief  men 
as  hostages.  The  Remi  eagerly  obey. 

Meantime,  the  Belgians  are  on  the  march  to  meet  Caesar. 


140  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Eight  miles  distant  from  his  camp  was  a  town  of  the  Remi, 
Bi'brax  by  name.  This  town  the  marching  Belgians  pause 
to  attack.  They  well-nigh  succeed  in  taking  it  the  very  first 
day.  Their  plan  of  operations  was  like  that  of  the  Gauls 
proper  in  besieging.  (The  Belgians  were  not  pure  Gauls, 
having  a  strong  admixture  of  German  in  their  blood.)  They 
surrounded  the  whole  circuit  of  the  fortifications  with  men, 
who,  casting  stones,  cleared  the  walls  of  defenders.  This 
done,  they  formed  a  testudo — which  Roman  military  term 
may  here  properly  be  explained  to  our  readers.  The  testudo 
was  a  certain  disposition  of  troops  made  for  a  particular  pur- 
pose. It  was  formed  by  a  body  of  soldiers  closing  up  to  each 
other,  the  central  part  with  their  shields  held  over  their  heads, 
to  provide  complete  protection  against  missiles  hurled  from 
above,  the  outer  ranks  with  their  shields  sloped  at  an  angle, 
to  guard  all  the  sides  from  weapons  horizontally  thrown. 
The  whole  appearance  resembled  the  back  of  a  tortoise, 
(whence  the  name  testudo,  meaning  tortoise.)  The  testudo 
became  a  cover  under  which  besieging  soldiers  could  at  their 
leisure  work  safely  to  undermine  walls.  This  purpose  was 
on  the  present  occasion  successfully  effected  by  the  Belgians. 
But  evening  fell,  and  put  a  temporary  period  to  the  progress 
of  the  operations. 

As  soon  as  it  is  dark,  messengers  come  from  the  beleag- 
uered town  to  Caesar  with  news  that,  unless  relieved,  the  town 
must  surrender.  Caesar  loses  no  time.  At  midnight  he 
sends  a  detachment  of  troops,  such  as  Rome  had  learned, 
from  various  enemies  encountered,  to  add  to  her  own  army 
organization — Numidian  and  Cretan  archers,  they  were  in 
this  instance,  together  with  Balearic  slingers — to  succor  the 
distressed  inhabitants  of  Bibrax.  The  effect  was  decisive. 
The  Belgians  stayed  only  to  devastate  the  neighboring  coun- 
try, and  then  advanced  to  within  two  miles  of  Caesar.  Their 
camp  was  seen,  by  its  line  of  fires,  to  have  a  front  of  some 
eight  miles. 


Ccesar.  141 

Caesar  to  great  audacity  joined  great  prudence.  In  the 
present  case  he  did  not  give  battle  at  once.  The  multitude 
of  the  enemy  was  formidable,  their  repute  for  valor  was 
high.  He  would  first  test  his  soldiers  in  skirmishes  against 
the  foe.  The  result  was  reassuring.  Caesar  accordingly  re- 
solved on  committing  himself  to  the  hazard  of  battle.  The 
battle  had  its  vicissitudes,  but  there  was  a  foregone  con- 
clusion of  them  all.  The  Belgians,  worsted,  resolved  on 
returning  to  their  respective  homes.  They  broke  up  their 
camp  in  the  night.  The  noise  was  like  that  of  a  rout.  At 
daybreak,  Caesar  started  in  pursuit. 

Labienus,  Titus  Labienus,  was  Caesar's  ablest  and  most 
trusted  lieutenant.  He  is  destined  to  fight  against  his  chief 
in  the  civil  war  that,  in  a  few  years,  will  follow.  This  Labie- 
nus was  now  with  three  legions  set  upon  the  flying  foe. 
All  day  long  these  dogs  of  war  fed  on  the  helpless  Belgians 
as  if  they  had  been  sheep.  Read  Caesar's  business-like  state- 
ment, and  consider  that  it  is  of  hunted  men,  not  of  beasts, 
that  he  is  speaking: 

Thus,  without  any  risk  to  themselves,  our  men  killed  as  great  a  num- 
ber of  them  as  the  length  of  the  day  allowed. 

This  was  not  cruelty ;  it  was  simply  cold  blood.  Cold 
blood  was  Caesar's  strength,  and  Rome's.  Caesar  was  Rome. 
Let  us  not  forget  it — when  a  writer  is  heartless,  the  readers 
whom  that  writer  addresses  are  probably  as  heartless  as  he. 
There  was  little  danger  that  any  one  at  Rome  would  charge 
Caesar,  do  as  he  might,  with  acting  cruelly  in  Gaul.  It  was 
a  dreadful  world,  the  world  before  Christ. 

The  very  next  day,  Caesar  advanced  into  the  country  of 
the  Suessiones,  neighbors  to  the  Remi.  He  would  give  his 
wretched  foes  no  time  to  rally  from  their  terror  and  flight. 
But  he  encounters  an  obstacle.  He  finds  himself  unable  to 
take  a  town,  No'vi-o-du'num,  or  Suessiones,  (modern  Soissons,) 
by  storm,  as  he  passes.  He  pauses,  therefore,  to  bring  up 


142  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

his  military  engines.  Meantime,  the  returning  inhabitants 
swarm  into  the  town.  They  see  what  Caesar  is  doing.  Dis- 
mayed at  the  greatness  of  his  works,  such  as  were  never  be- 
fore seen  or  heard  of  by  them,  they  offer  to  capitulate  to 
Caesar,  who,  for  the  sake  of  the  interceding  Remi,  graciously 
accepts  their  surrender.  He  condescends  to  receive  as  hos- 
tages the  first  men  of  the  state,  together  with  "  even  the  two 
sons  of  king  Galba  himself."  These  acts  of  sovereign  grace 
accomplished,  Caesar  is  free  to  deal  next  with  the  Bel-lov'a-ci. 

The  Bellovaci  had  all  sought  refuge  in  a  certain  town, 
toward  which  Caesar  was  now  making  his  way.  Five  miles 
from  the  town  the  conquering  hero  is  met  by  a  striking 
and  pathetic  embassy.  All  the  old  men  coming  out  of  the 
gates  stretched  forth  their  hands  to  Caesar,  and  implored 
him  to  receive  them  into  surrender.  Arrived  at  the  town — 
for  Caesar's  advance  is  apparently  not  hindered  at  all  by  so 
picturesque  an  appeal — and  duly  encamped,  he  sees  now  the 
boys  and  the  women  standing  ranged  on  the  ramparts,  their 
hands  reached  out  toward  the  Romans,  still  in  sign  of  sur- 
render, and  in  piteous  dumb  plea  for  compassion. 

Caesar's  man  Friday,  Divitiacus,  appears  again.  He  is 
back  in  Caesar's  camp,  having,  by  devastating  work  in  the 
territory  of  the  Bellovaci,  done  his  Roman  master  impor- 
tant service  in  creating  a  diversion  that  helped  break  up  the 
army  of  the  confederates.  The  thrifty  yEduan  Romanizer 
now  intercedes  with  Caesar  on  behalf  of  the  very  Belgians 
whose  lands  he  has  just  been  engaged  in  laying  waste.  The 
chief  motive  which  actuates  this  intervention  will  be  seen  and 
appreciated  from  what  Caesar  reports  Divitiacus  as  saying, 
namely :  "  That  Caesar  in  granting  their  request  would  greatly 
enlarge  the  credit  and  authority  of  the  .^Eduans  among  the 
Belgian  states." 

Caesar's  policy  was  always  to  make  great  ostentation  of 
regard  for  those  who,  like  this  Divitiacus,  were  exemplarily 
submissive  and  serviceable  to  him.  He  grants  grace  to  the 


Casar.  1 43 

Bellovaci,  for  the  sake  of  Divitiacus  and  the  ^Eduans.  To 
the  comparative  influence  of  the  Bellovaci  among  Belgians, 
he  pays  a  distinguished  compliment.  He  will  receive  from 
them  the  unusual  number  of  six  hundred  hostages. 

The  next  aim  of  Caesar  is  the  tribe  called  Ambiani  (Ami- 
ens). These  incontinently  surrender  without  condition  to 
Caesar. 

Beyond  the  Ambiani  live  the  Nervii.  About  the  Nervii, 
Caesar,  inquiring,  learns  the  following  particulars  : 

That  they  suffered  no  resort  of  merchants  into  their  cities,  nor 
would  allow  of  the  importation  of  wine  or  other  commodities  tending  to 
luxury ;  as  imagining  that  thereby  the  minds  of  men  were  enfeebled, 
and  their  martial  fire  and  courage  extinguished  ;  that  they  were  men  of 
a  warlike  spirit,  but  altogether  unacquainted  with  the  refinements  of 
life  ;  that  they  continually  inveighed  against  the  rest  of  the  Belgians 
for  ignominiously  submitting  to  the  Roman  yoke  and  abandoning  the 
steady  bravery  of  their  ancestors.  In  fine,  that  they  had  openly  declared 
their  resolution  of  neither  sending  ambassadors  to  Caesar,  nor  accepting 
any  terms  of  peace. 

The  foregoing  passage,  containing,  as  readers  may  observe, 
nothing  whatever  but  an  abstract  of  information  received  by 
Caesar  concerning  the  Nervii,  Mr.  Froude  cites,  in  its  original 
Latin,  with  these  prefatory  words,  "  Caesar  thus  records  his 
admiration  of  the  Nervian  character."  This  English  idol- 
ater of  Caesar  wishes  to  impress  his  readers  with  the  idea 
that  there  was,  in  his  hero's  breast,  a  generous  sentiment  of 
appreciation  for  high  character  in  a  foe.  Bare,  bald,  cold 
summary  of  statements  brought  to  Caesar,  and  by  him  barely, 
baldly,  coldly  related,  are  transformed,  by  Mr.  Froude's 
hero-worshiping  imagination,  into  a  record  of  admiration 
on  Caesar's  part.  Mr.  Froude  even  brings  himself,  on  no 
better  authority  as  appears  than  that  of  the  passage  just 
placed  under  our  readers'  eyes,  to  say  that  "  the  abstemious 
Caesar  marks  with  approbation  "  the  water-drinking  habits  of 
the  Nervians.  In  point  of  fact,  there  is  not  a  trace,  not  a 
shadow,  of  approval  either  expressed  or  implied.  Over  against 


144  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

laudation  like  Mr.  Froude's  of  Caesar,  set  the  following  expres- 
sion from  a  great  student  and  authority  in  Roman  history, 
sturdy,  Christian  Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby.  (We  quote  from 
his  "  Later  Roman  Commonwealth  "  :) 

"  While  Caesar  was  giving  tokens  of  the  danger  which  the 
aristocracy  had  to  apprehend  from  his  political  career,  he  al- 
most lulled  their  fears  by  the  unbounded  infamy  of  his  per- 
sonal character.  We  will  not,  and  cannot  repeat  the  picture 
which  ancient  writers,  little  scrupulous  on  such  points,  have 
drawn  of  his  debaucheries  ;  it  will  be  sufficient  to  say,  that 
he  was  stained  with  numerous  adulteries,  committed  with 
women  of  the  noblest  families;  that  his  profligacies  in  other 
points  drew  upon  him  general  disgrace,  even  amid  the  lax 
morality  of  his  own  contemporaries,  and  are  such  that  their 
very  flagitiousness  has  in  part  saved  them  from  the  abhor- 
rence of  posterity,  because  modern  writers  cannot  pollute 
their  pages  with  the  mention  of  them." 

We,  for  our  part,  have  no  occasion  here  to  denounce  Caesar, 
and  we  have  no  disposition  to  do  so.  Let  us  render  the  am- 
plest justice  to  his  character.  But  let  us  not  be  dazzled  by 
his  greatness,  to  be  blind  to  his  wickedness.  Our  readers 
will  wish  to  have  the  true  view  of  Caesar;  and,  from  what 
Dr.  Arnold  is  quoted  as  saying,  they  may  at  least  see  that 
their  friend,  the  present  author,  is  not  peculiar  in  chal- 
lenging the  enormous  claims  made  on  his  behalf  by  such 
encomiasts  as  Mr.  Froude.  Caesar  was  a  great  man,  but 
he  was  an  evil  man.  He  was  perhaps  uniquely  great; 
and  he  was  not,  which  is  the  best  that  can  be  truly  said 
for  him,  he  was  not  uniquely,  nay,  his  time  being  consid- 
ered, he  was  not  even  remarkably,  evil.  Mr.  Anthony 
Trollope  has,  in  the  series  of  Ancient  Classics  for  English 
Readers,  a  volume  on  Caesar,  in  which,  while  sufficiently  eu- 
logizing his  hero,  the  author,  wholesomely  contrasting  herein 
with  Mr.  Froude,  stands  up  somewhat  as  an  Englishman 
writing  in  the  nineteenth  Christian  century  should,  to  point 


Caesar.  145 

out    the    staring   moral    deformities    in    the    great    Roman's 
character. 

Caesar's  struggle  with  the  Nervii  was  one  of  the  sharpest 
crises  that  he  encountered  in  the  whole  course  of  his  Gallic 
experience.  Shakespeare  showed  true  art  in  making  Antony 
begin  his  funeral  discourse  over  the  dead  body  of  murdered 
Cassar,  with  an  allusion,  seemingly  the  offspring  of  chance 
reminiscence,  to  this  bloody  and  glorious  moment  in  the 
dead  man's  military  career.  What  a  stroke  it  was  of  artful 
eloquence  on  Antony's  part ! 

You  all  do  know  this  mantle  ;  I  remember 
The  first  time  ever  Caesar  put  it  on  ! 
'Twas  on  a  summer's  evening  in  his  tent^. 
That  day  he  overcame  the  Nervii. 

The  Nervians  were  beforehand  with  the  Romans  in  attacking. 
In  truth,  this  time  the  Romans  were  taken  by  surprise.  They 
had  not  a  moment  to  put  themselves  in  proper  order  of  bat- 
tle. Nay,  the  men  could  not  even  arm  themselves  as  usual. 
It  was  not  so  much  one  battle,  as  it  was  a  confusion  of  sep- 
arate battles,  that  ensued.  Caesar  for  once  found  himself  in 
imminent  peril.  His  officers  were  slain  or  disabled.  He  had 
himself  to  hasten  from  point  to  point  as  he  could.  There  was 
one  moment  when  all  seemed  to  be  over  with  him  and  his 
army.  A  body  of  his  own  auxiliary  horse  actually  fled  head- 
long home  bearing  that  news  to  their  countrymen.  While 
this  was  happening  in  one  quarter,  in  another,  matters  were 
if  possible  worse  for  the  Romans. 

The  men  of  the  twelfth  legion  were  so  huddled  together 
that  they  had  no  room  to  use  their  arms  to  advantage. 
Their  centurions  were  nearly  all  of  them  either  killed  or  dis- 
abled, among  them  the  chief  centurion,  whom  Caesar  pauses 
to  name  and  to  praise — it  is  Publius  Sextius  Baculus,  an  of- 
ficer who  will  reappear  later  in  the  history,  rising  from  a  sick 
bed,  and,  with  one  brief  heroic  rally,  rescuing  a  panic-stricken 
camp  from  the  most  threatening  danger,  to  sink  then  in  a 


146  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

swoon  of  utter  exhaustion.  (Would  his  pain,  think  you,  have 
been  to  Publius  Sextius  Baculus  a  degree  lighter  to  bear,  if 
he  could  have  known  that,  near  twenty  centuries  after,  four 
thousand  miles  away,  you,  dear  reader,  would  dwell  for  a 
moment  on  his  name?)  The  enemy,  at  every  point,  were 
pressing  harder  and  harder. 

Such  was  the  posture  of  things  confronting  Caesar.  Should 
he  order  up  his  reserves  ?  But  there  were  no  reserves.  No 
reserve  but  himself.  On  that  reserve,  Cassar  confidently  fell 
back.  He  found  it  a  sufficient  support.  With  it  he  suc- 
cessfully stemmed  and  turned  the  rising  and  foaming  tide  of 
adverse  battle. 

Snatching  from  a  soldier  his  shield,  Caesar  pressed  to 
the  front  line  of  his  men.  He  called  his  centurions  by 
name.  He  inspirited  the  rest  of  the  soldiers.  '  On  with 
the  standards,'  he  shouted.  'Spread  out  your  ranks  and 
give  yourselves  room.'  Labienus  from  a  distant  point 
discovered  the  critical  situation  of  affairs.  He  immediately 
dispatched  the  tenth  legion  to  give  aid,  and  the  aspect  of 
the  field  was  instantly  and  utterly  changed.  Wounded 
men  revived  and  renewed  the  fight.  Camp-followers  un- 
armed met  the  enemy  armed.  The  cavalry,  eager  to  re- 
trieve their  forfeited  fame,  sought  everywhere  to  be  in 
advance  of  the  legionaries.  It  was  now  the  turn  of  the 
Nervii  to  be  dismayed.  Dismayed,  however,  as  they  might 
be,  they  fought  with  desperate  valor.  When  a  soldier 
among  them  fell,  his  comrade  behind  advancing  would  stand 
on  the  corpse  and  thence  continue  to  fight.  He  falling  in 
turn,  and  another,  and  another,  still  the  indomitable  Nervii 
would  only  make  mounds  of  their  slain  from  which  to  dis- 
charge their  weapons  on  the  foe.  There  Avas  no  flight,  no 
surrender,  no  giving  way.  The  Nervii  fought  till  they  died. 
But  they  died  almost  to  a  man.  The  nation  and  the  name 
were  well-nigh  annihilated.  So  Cassar  says,  but  we  hear 
of  the  Nervii  again  by  and  by,  and  as  redoubtable  warriors 


Ccesar.  147 

still.  Perhaps  the  exaggeration  is  not  so  much  Ccesar's, 
as  that  of  the  old  men  of  the  Nervii,  who  sent  from  their 
marshes  to  offer  themselves,  with  the  women  and  the  chil- 
dren, in  surrender  to  Caesar.  They  said  that  their  senators 
were  reduced  from  six  hundred  to  three,  their  fightin«-  men 
from  sixty  thousand  to  five  hundred.  These,  "Cresar,  that 
he  might  appear  to  use  compassion  toward  the  wretched  and 
the  suppliant,  most  carefully  spared."  He  "ordered  them 
to  enjoy  their  own  territories  and  towns,  and  commanded 
their  neighbors  that  they  should  restrain  themselves  and 
their  dependents  from  offering  them  injury  or  outrage." 

It  is  a  slip  in  accuracy  on  Mr.  Motley's  part,  for  that  his- 
torian, in  the  introduction  to  his  "Rise  of  the  Dutch  Repub- 
lic," to  make  Cassar  bid  "  his  legions  "  "  treat  with  respect  the 
little  remnant  of  the  tribe  that  had  just  fallen  to  record  the 
empty  echo  of  his  glory."  As  our  readers  can  see,  it  was 
not  the  Roman  legions,  but  the  neighbors  of  the  Nervii,  on 
whom  the  purely  negative  injunction  to  refrain  from  outrage, 
was  laid.  This  is  not  the  only  fault  of  too  great  freedom,  in 
the  brief  spirited  report  made  by  Mr.  Motley  of  the  present 
passage  in  Coesar. 

It  is  time  our  readers  had  another  taste  of  Caesar's  own 
quality  in  narration.  We  give  his  account  of  his  transac- 
tions, in  arms  and  in  diplomacy,  with  the  Aduatuci,  a  tribe 
of  Nervian  allies.  This  tribe  had  been  coming  up  to  assist 
the  Nervii.  On  their  way,  they  heard  of  the  battle  just  de- 
scribed, and  turned  back.  They  threw  themselves  into  a 
town  of  theirs  which  Coesar  proceeded  to  attack. 

Cassar  says  : 

When  we  had  now  finished  our  approaches,  cast  up  a  mount,  and 
were  preparing  a  tower  of  assault  behind  the  works,  they  began  at 
first  to  deride  us  from  the  battlements,  and  in  reproachful  language  ask 
the  meaning  of  that  prodigious  engine  raised  at  such  a  distance  !  With 
what  hands  or  strength,  men  of  our  size  and  make,  (for  the  Gauls,  \vho 
are  for  the  most  part  very  tall,  despise  the  small  stature  of  the  Romans,) 


148 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


could   hope    to   bring   forward   so   unwieldy   a  machine    against   their 
walls  ? 

But  when  they  saw  it  removed  and  approaching  near  the  town,  aston- 
ished at  the  new  and  unusual  appearance,  they  sent  ambassadors  to  Caesar 
to  sue  for  peace.  These  being  accordingly  introduced,  told  him:  "That 
they  doubted  not  but  the  Romans  were  aided  in  their  wars  by  the  gods 


BESIEGING   TOWER. 

themselves,  it  seeming  to  them  a  more  than  human  task  to  transport 
with  such  facility  an  engine  of  that  amazing  height,  by  which  they  were 
brought  upon  a  level  with  their  enemies,  and  enabled  to  engage  them  in 
close  fight.  That  they  therefore  put  themselves  and  their  fortunes  into 
his  hands,  requesting  only,  that  if  his  clemency  and  goodness,  of  which 
they  had  heard  so  much  from  others,  had  determined  him  to  spare 


C&sar.  149 

the  Atuatici  [Aduatuci]  he  would  not  deprive  them  of  their  arms."  .  .  . 
To  this  Caesar  replied  :  "  That  no  surrender  would  be  accepted  unless 
they  agreed  to  deliver  up  their  arms."  .  .  .  They  accepted  in  appear- 
ance the  conditions  offered  them  by  Caesar,  and  threw  so  vast  a  quantity 
of  arms  into  the  ditch  before  the  town,  that  the  heap  almost  reached  to 
the  top  of  the  wall.  Nevertheless,  as  was  afterward  known,  they  re- 
tained about  a  third  part,  and  concealed  them  privately  within  the  town. 
The  gates  being  thrown  open,  they  enjoyed  peace  for  the  remaining  part 
of  that  day. 

In  the  evening,  Cresar  ordered  the  gates  to  be  shut,  and  the  soldiers  to 
quit  the  town,  that  no  injury  might  be  offered  to  the  inhabitants  during 
the  night.  Whereupon,  the  Atuatici,  in  consequence  of  a  design  they 
had  before  concerted,  imagining  that  the  Romans,  after  a  surrender  of 
the  place,  would  either  set  no  guard  at  all,  or  at  least  keep  watch  with 
less  precaution  ;  partly  arming  themselves  with  such  weapons  as  they 
had  privately  retained,  partly  with  targets  made  of  bark  or  wicker,  and 
covered  over  hastily  with  hides,  made  a  furious  sally  about  midnight 
with  all  their  forces,  and  charged  our  works  on  that  side  where  they 
seemed  to  be  of  easiest  access. 

The  alarm  being  immediately  given  by  lighting  fires,  as  Cncsar  before 
commanded,  the  soldiers  ran  to  the  attack  from  the  neighboring  forts. 
A  very  sharp  conflict  ensued,  for  the  entmy,  now  driven  to  despair,  and 
having  no  hope  but  in  their  valor,  fought  with  all  possible  bravery, 
though  the  Romans  had  the  advantage  of  the  ground,  and  poured  their 
javelins  upon  them  both  from  the  towers  and  the  top  of  the  rampart. 
About  four  thousand  were  slain  upon  the  spot,  and  the  rest  obliged  to 
retire  into  the  town.  Next  day  the  gates  were  forced,  no  one  offering 
to  make  the  least  resistance,  and,  the  army  having  taken  possession  of 
the  place,  the  inhabitants,  to  the  number  of  fifty-three  thousand,  were 
sold  for  slaves. 

What  sum  of  money  the  sale  of  these  people  brought  Caesar, 
he  does  not  descend  enough  into  particulars  to  name.  Num- 
bers of  speculators  from  Rome  were  no  doubt  in  attendance 
on  the  progress  of  conquests  so  important  as  these  of  Cnssar 
in  Gaul.  The  bidding,  we  may  presume,  was  spirited,  and 
the  prices  realized  were  probably  satisfactory.  How  cold- 
blooded it  all  seems!  What  a  different  spirit  Christianity 
has  infused  even  into  business  so  unchristian  as  war ! 

Once  again,  Coesar   has  the    opportunity  to  exercise    the 


150  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

"clemency"  which  it  suited  his  suppliants  to  ascribe  to 
their  conqueror.  This  time,  however,  the  conqueror  feels 
sufficiently  at  ease  and  at  leisure  to  put  on  very  royal  airs. 
He  tells  the  embassies  from  various  quarters  that  wait  on 
him,  to  call  again  at  the  beginning  of  the  following  season. 
Meantime,  having  quartered  his  legions  for  the  winter  near 
the  scene  of  their  recent  exploits,  he  himself  repairs,  as  in 
the  year  previous,  to  Italy. 

In  closing  the  second  book  of  the  Commentaries,  Cassar 
mentions  that  a  thanksgiving  of  fifteen  days  was  decreed  for 
his  victories — an  unprecedented  honor,  he  puts  force  upon 
his  moderation  to  add.  The  thanksgiving  was  a  religious 
solemnity,  graduated  in  length  of  continuance  according  to 
the  magnitude  of  the  victories  to  celebrate  which  it  was  de- 
creed. The  ordinary  period  was  three  days,  or  five.  Pom- 
pey  had,  on  occasion  of  his  subduing  Mithridates,  enjoyed 
the  honor  of  a  thanksgiving  of  twelve  days.  Cassar  is  des- 
tined later,  and  more  than  once,  to  overpass  the  limit  of  even 
a  fifteen  days'  thanksgiving. 

During  the  thanksgiving,  the  temples  of  the  gods  stood 
open.  The  idols  were  placed  in  public  on  couches  arranged 
as  if  for  a  banquet  about  the  altars,  where  the  people  offered 
them,  in  the  form  of  rich  viands,  their  tributes  of  gratitude. 
Nominally  religious,  this  observance  was  really  political  and 
personal  in  character.  The  public  rites  of  Roman  idolatry 
had  already  become,  for  the  most  part,  state  pomps  of  the 
hollowest  mockery. 

THIRD  BOOK. 

The  third  book,  as  dealing  with  transactions  of  less  mag- 
nitude than  those  already  narrated,  we  shall  feel  quite  free 
in  condensing. 

Csesar  is  disappointed  to  find  that  his  conquering  work  has 
not  made  things  so  comfortable  as  could  be  wished  for  the 
Romans  in  Gaul.  Galba,  ancestor  of  the  future  emperor  of 
that  name,  left  in  charge  of  a  force  with  orders  to  winter  in 


Cczsar.  151 

a  certain  Alpine  region  pointed  out — if  he  should  find  it  con- 
venient— did  not  find  it  convenient.  There  was  a  rising 
against  him,  and  he  was  obliged  to  cut  his  way  out  of  his 
quarters  and  withdraw  into  the  province. 

More  serious  was  the  new  posture  of  things  in  another 
quarter  of  Gaul.  Quite  to  the  west,  a  people  called  the 
Ven'e-ti,  living  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  (in  that  part  of  France 
which  has  since  been  styled  Brittany,)  began  to  make  trouble 
for  the  Romans.  The  occasion  was  very  simple.  It  seems 
that  young  Crassus,  son  of  Caesar's  wealthy  political  partner, 
was  left  with  the  seventh  legion  in  Aquitania,  (south-western 
France,)  to  pass  the  winter.  It  happened,  not  unnaturally 
after  so  many  wasting  wars,  that  grain  was  scarce  in  Aqui- 
tania. The  young  gentleman  accordingly  sent  out  some 
officers  among  the  neighboring  states  to  ''procure"  pro- 
visions. Of  these  agents,  or  purveyors,  two  went  to  the 
Veneti.  (By  and  by,  when  it  becomes  necessary  in  order  to 
make  good  a  pretext  for  war,  these  emissaries  will  reappear 
in  Caesar's  language  as  "  ambassadors.")  Well,  the  Veneti, 
instead  of  filling  up  the  proffered  baskets  of  these  military 
tramps  with  provisions,  seize  their  persons  and  detain  them. 
This  example  is  followed  by  the  less  powerful  neighbors  of 
the  Veneti,  and  a  confederacy  is  immediately  formed  among 
all  the  sea-coast  tribes.  This  sudden  confederacy  send 
word  to  Crassus  that,  if  he  wants  his  officers  back,  he  must 
return  them  their  hostages. 

Young  Crassus  takes  advice  of  Caesar.  Caesar  was  too  far 
off  to  intervene  personally,  but  he  orders  ships  of  war  to  be 
built  and  the  necessary  crews,  pilots,  and  so  forth,  to  be  got 
ready. 

Such  orders  as  these  from  Caesar  are  very  suggestive. 
They  are  suggestive  of  incalculable  resources  belonging  to 
the  power  of  Rome.  A  word  from  distant  Caesar  in  Italy 
summons  a  navy  into  existence  on  the  western  coast  of 
France.  The  whole  work  of  construction  seems  to  have 


152  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

been  accomplished  during  that  part  of  the  winter  which  re- 
mained after  Crassus  sent  his  word  to  Crcsar  and  Ccesar  sent 
his  orders  back  in  reply. 

With  the  opening  spring,  Caesar  is  on  hand  himself.  It 
seems  from  what  he  says  that  the  conscience  of  the  Veneti 
was  greatly  quickened  by  his  arrival.  They  began  to  reflect 
what  a  "crime"  they  had  committed,  in  detaining  those 
martial  mendicants.  Csesar  even  pauses  here  to  enlarge  a 
little  on  the  sacredness  of  the  persons  of  "  ambassadors." 
The  moral  sense  of  the  ancient  world  might  be  relied  upon 
to  go  with  Csesar,  if  he  should  chastise  with  exemplary  se- 
verity a  wrong  done  to  ambassadors.  But,  besides  this, 
Csesar  has  statesmanship  enough  to  know  that  "  revolt  "  was 
likely  to  spread.  With  edifying  general  reflection  on  the 
constitution  of  the  human  mind,  Caesar  here  says,  that  "all 
men  by  nature  love  liberty  and  hate  the  condition  of  slavery." 
Caesar,  at  least,  knew  what  Roman  conquest  meant  to  the 
nations  conquered.  In  view  of  every  thing,  this  tireless  man 
decided  that  he  must  both  punish  the  Veneti,  together  with 
their  allies,  and  likewise  garrison  all  Gaul — quite,  forsooth, 
as  if  it  had  not  been  in  the  two  years  preceding  sufficiently 
"pacified."  ("Pacified"  is  the  harmless-looking  quakerly 
word  by  which  the  clement  soul  of  Csesar  loves  best  to 
speak  of  such  wasting  and  depopulating  wars  as  he  waged  in 
Gaul.)  Labienus,  Crassus,  Titurius,  are  sent  each  to  a  dif- 
ferent quarter  of  the  pacified  country,  while  young  Decimus 
Brutus  (kinsman  of  the  future  chief  conspirator,  himself  also 
destined  to  be  of  the  number  of  Csesar's  murderers)  is  placed 
over  the  fleet,  and  ordered  to  go,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  the 
Veneti.  The  land  forces  Cossar  in  person  leads  thither. 

It  is  constantly,  in  the  preparation  of  these  volumes,  a 
great  problem  for  us  to  decide  in  what  way  we  may  hope 
best  to  serve  the  interests  of  our  readers.  For  instance,  we 
cannot  give  Caesar  entire.  But,  indeed,  we  should  not  wish 
to  do  so,  if  we  could.  The  full  narrative  would  be  tedious. 


Cccsar. 


153 


Our  text  would  bristle  with  strange  outlandish  names,  repellent 
to  readers.  On  the  other  hand,  condensation  always  threatens 
to  squeeze  out  and  lose  what  juice  there  is  in  a  story  by  no 
means  over-juicy  at  its  best.  To  leave  out  details  that  need- 
lessly would  weary,  to  introduce  precisely  the  details  most 
necessary  to  instruct  and  entertain,  to  condense  enough  to 
bring  within  required  limits,  to  be  full  enough  to  make  a 
fairly  adequate  exhibition  of  our  author  in  his  matter  and  his 
manner — this,  we  must  keep  it  ever  in  mind,  is  our  aim. 

Well,  on  the  whole,  now  for  a  heavy  turn  in  our  press,  the 
juice  meantime  to  waste  if  it  must.  This  naval  warfare  of  the 
Romans — men  never  very  natural  sailors — with  the  Veneti — 
men  born  and  bred  to  the  sea — had,  notwithstanding  so 
much  advantage  against  the  invaders,  the  usual,  the  inevita- 
ble, issue.  The  Veneti  were  beaten  on  their  own  element. 
The  Romans  applied  their  energy,  awkwardly  indeed,  but 
irresistibly,  and  won. 

Before  engaging  in  warfare  on  the  water,  Caesar  had,  with 
infinite  labor  to  his  men,  uselessly  captured  town  after  town 
of  the  enemy,  only  to  see  the  inhabitants  escape  with  their 
possessions  to  a  farther  stronghold  which  had  still  to  be 
taken  with  similarly  laborious  and  similarly  useless  opera- 
tions of  siege.  Exasperated,  no  doubt,  with  the  troublesome 
opposition  he  had  encountered  in  conquering,  Caesar  was  the 
more  forward  to  think,  as  he  says  he  thought,  that  the  barba- 
rians needed  a  wholesome  lesson  about  the  sacred  rights  of 
ambassadors.  He  calmly  slaughtered  all  the  national  sena- 
tors, and  sold  the  rest  of  the  Veneti  for  slaves. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  between  Csesar  and  the 
Veneti, Ti-tu'ri-us  Sa-bi'nus,  one  of  the  lieutenants  sent  to  gar- 
rison pacified  Gaul,  had  an  opportunity  to  show  the  Gallic 
foe  what  Romans  could  do,  no  less  in  knavery  than  in  brav- 
ery. (Wait  till  the  fifth  book,  and  see  how  Titurius  himself 
will  tragically  experience,  through  knavery,  a  recompense 
of  his  knavery.)  He  bribed  a  renegade  Gaul  among  his 
7* 


154  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


auxiliaries  to  carry  false  news  to  the  patriot  insurgents. 
This  pretended  deserter  gets  his  brethren  to  attack  the 
Roman  camp. 

The  attacking  Gauls  are  spent  with  running  up  hill,  they 
are  burdened  with  sticks  and  brush  brought  by  them  to  fill 
up  the  trenches  around  the  Roman  camp — and  the  Romans, 
fully  prepared,  fresh,  expectant,  confident,  cut  them  in  pieces 
almost  to  a  man.  Thus,  as  Caesar,  evidently  complacent 
over  a  coincidence  exhibiting  his  own  good  fortune,  cheer- 
fully remarks,  Sabinus  heard  of  Caesar's  victory,  and  Caesar 
of  Sabinus's,  both  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 

Meantime,  young  Crassus  distinguishes  himself.  If  there 
is  any  art  in  Caesar's  account  of  Crassus's  achievements,  it 
is  exquisitely  good  art,  for  it  almost  completely  conceals 
itself.  By  whatever  motive  on  Caesar's  part  influenced, 
the  story  is  told  by  Caesar  in  a  way  to  give  his  rich 
colleague  the  utmost  possible  pleasure  in  the  gallant  and 
skillful  conduct  of  his  son.  The  youthful  lieutenant  had 
been  put  in  charge  of  revolted  Aquitania.  With  no  less 
prudence  than  firmness,  he  marched  into  the  territories 
of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Aquitanian  tribes.  The  ene- 
my mass  their  forces  and  attack  the  Romans  in  march. 
Ccesar,  with  consummate  grace  of  compliment  to  the  father 
through  the  son,  says,  that  while,  on  their  part,  the  enemy 
were  animated  by  the  thought  of  all  Aquitania's  depending 
for  its  freedom  on  their  valor,  the  Romans,  on  their  part, 
"  desired  that  it  might  be  seen  what  they  could  accomplish, 
without  their  general  and  without  the  other  legions,  under  a 
very  young  commander."  How  sweet  a  proud  Roman  fa- 
ther must  have  found  it,  to  chew  the  cud  of  such  tribute,  so 
deftly  postponed  and  concealed,  to  the  virtues  and  the  pop- 
ularity of  his  son!  Under  the  circumstances  described,  the 
contest  was  a  long  and  bloody  one.  But  the  inevitable  hap- 
pened once  more.  The  Aquitanians  gave  way,  and  Crassus 
at  once  proceeded  to  besiege  their  chief  town.  He  brought 


Ccesar.  155 

his  vi'ne-ae  (movable  shelters  under  which  sappers  and 
miners  could  work)  and  his  turrets  or  towers — he  brought 
these  military  engines  to  bear,  and  the  town  capitulated. 

Enterprising  young  Crassus  is  fired  with  the  zeal  which 
springs  from  success.  He  takes  up  his  line  of  hostile  march 
into  the  territories  of  other  tribes.  The  natural  and  usual 
course  of  events  again.  The  threatened  barbarians  sent 
each  other  ambassadors  and  combined  to  repel  the  common 
enemy.  Crassus  thought  that  his  true  plan  was  to  come  at 
once  to  combat  with  the  constantly  increasing  force  of  his 
foe.  His  officers  agreed. 

But  the  wary  Aquitanians  preferred  the  chances  of  delay. 
They  did  not  accept  battle  from  Crassus.  Crassus  accord- 
ingly, having  waited  till  the  army  had  become  eager  enough 
for  fighting  to  fight  furiously,  let  fly  his  men  like  dogs  at 
their  game.  It  is  the  old  story.  Of  fifty  thousand  Aqui- 
tanians scarce  a  fourth  part  escape.  The  tired  Romans 
got  back  late  that  night  to  their  camp. 

The  greater  part  of  Aquitania  was,  on  receiving  news  of 
this  battle,  ready  to  regard  itself  as  "  pacified."  Eleven 
peoples  are  named  that  sent  in  their  hostages  to  Crassus. 
The  young  fellow  had  had  a  very  fine  hunting  season,  and 
bagged  a  large  quantity  of  game. 

The  summer  is  now  well-nigh  spent — the  summer,  but 
not  Caesar.  He  hears  of  two  Gallic  tribes  guilty  of  not  send- 
ing in  to  him  their  ambassadors.  He  instantly  marches  into 
their  territory.  This  thing,  he  thinks,  is  now  so  nearly  done, 
it  might  better  be  finished  up  out  of  hand.  He  seemed  con- 
stitutionally averse  to  having  a  trifle  of  the  sort  left  over  for 
a  future  campaign. 

These  contumacious  Gallic  tribes  adopted  a  new  strategy. 
They  hid  themselves  and  their  effects  among  morasses  and 
forests,  Caesar  began  to  fortify  a  camp,  when,  out  of  the 
woods  surrounding  the  place,  forth  rushed  a  multitude  of 
barbarians  and  fell  upon  the  Romans  unprepared.  Unpre- 


156  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

pared,  however,  the  Romans  never  were.  They  dropped 
their  shovels,  and  snatched  up  their  swords.  They  drove 
the  barbarians  to  cover. 

Nothing  daunted  these  Romans.  Csesar  set  his  men  to 
clearing  up  the  barbarians'  country  for  them.  For  immense 
spaces  the  forests  were  leveled  with  the  ground.  But  now 
the  winter  rains  came  on,  and  even  Romans  could  not  stand 
it  longer  in  their  tents.  So  Csesar,  having  merely  wasted 
the  lands  and  burned  the  villages  and  houses  of  the  inhab- 
itants, withdrew  into  winter-quarters  elsewhere. 

And  the  third  book  and  the  third  campaign  are  ended. 

FOURTH  BOOK. 

Three  things  especially,  in  the  fourth  book  of  Coesar's 
Commentaries,  are  of  commanding  interest.  The  first  is  the 
case  of  alleged  perfidy,  with  enormous  undoubted  cruelty, 
practiced  by  Csesar  against  his  German  enemies.  The 
second  is  Csesar's  famous  feat  in  throwing  a  bridge  across 
the  river  Rhine.  The  third  is  his  invasion  of  Great  Britain. 

Far  northward  toward  the  mouth  of  that  river,  two  more 
tribes  of  Germans  had  just  crossed  the  Rhine.  They  may 
have  heard  of  Ariovistus's  fate,  and  have  dreaded  the  con- 
sequences of  their  own  act  in  crossing;  but  what  seemed 
worse  urged  them  behind,  and  they  crossed,  men,  women, 
and  children,  to  the  number  of  near  half  a  million.  This 
immense  migration  could  not  be  permitted.  Csesar  marched 
against  the  Germans. 

But  Csesar  lingers  more  than  usual  in  describing  his  en- 
emy. Naming  the  Su-e'vi  in  particular,  but  apparently 
meaning  the  Germans  in  general,  he  makes  out  his  adver- 
saries to  be  a  very  wild  and  savage  people.  They  wear  no 
clothes  but  skins,  and  these  in  such  scant  measure  that  the 
greater  part  of  their  bodies  goes  bare.  They  practice,  even 
in  their  severely  cold  climate,  bathing  out  of  doors  in  the 
rivers.  They  make  milk  and  flesh  their  main  food.  This 


Casar.  157 

sort  of  life  promotes  among  them  great  size  of  body.  They 
grow  up  from  their  childhood  without  discipline  or  restraint, 
in  the  habit  of  freely  following  each  one  his  own  individual 
inclination.  They  do  not  stay  more  than  a  single  year  in  the 
same  place  of  residence.  There  is  with  them  no  separate 
ownership  of  land.  Their  practice  in  war  is  to  send  out,  this 
year,  a  certain  proportion  of  their  men  to  fight,  while  the 
rest  stay  at  home  to  maintain  both  themselves  and  the  war- 
riors, and  next  year  to  let  these  relays  exchange  places.  They 
will  not  use  saddles,  and  they  despise  those  who  do.  They 
often  in  battle  spring  to  the  ground,  and,  fighting  on  foot, 
leave  their  horses,  trained  to  this  habit,  standing  exactly 
where  the  riders  dismounted,  to  await  their  return.  Wine 
they,  like  the  Nervii,  will  none  of,  deeming  that  drink  to  be 
hurtful  to  their  powers  of  endurance. 

Caesar  takes,  for  him,  unaccustomed  pains  to  magnify  thus 
the  formidable  character  of  foes,  whom  in  the  sequel  he 
will,  employing  so  detestable  an  expedient,  so  easily  destroy. 
He  says  that  the  Suevi,  who  were,  in  power,  the  foremost  of 
the  Germans,  had  it  for  their  boast  that  no  nations  dared 
live  in  their  neighborhood.  They  kept  the  lands  lying  waste 
and  wild  for  hundreds  of  miles  on  their  frontier. 

The  two  tribes  (the  U-sip'e-tes  and  the  Tenc-te'ri — if  you 
will  have  their  names)  first  alluded  to  in  the  present  book 
had,  for  a  time,  held  their  own  against  the  encroachments  of 
the  Suevi.  At  length  dispossessed,  they  wandered  about 
hither  and  thither  in  Germany,  seeking  homes,  until  they 
found  homes  by  dispossessing  in  turn  the  Me-na'pi-i,  a  tribe 
occupying  places  on  both  banks  of  the  Rhine. 

These  restless  movements  of  population  on  the  confines 
of  the  Roman  world,  no  doubt,  as  we  have  before  said,  in- 
dicates a  steady  pressure  of  advancing  southward  immigra- 
tion, starting  from  sources  somewhere  in  the  remote  interior 
of  Asia,  and  felt  for  ages,  both  before  and  after  Cassar's 
time,  along  the  whole  extended  northern  frontier  of  the 


158  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

empire.  The  pressure  continued,  and  grew,  until,  in  the  inva- 
sion of  the  Goths  and  the  Huns,  it  breached  the  outer  walls 
of  Roman  civilization  and  overspread  the  empire  in  a  tide  of 
irruption  that  submerged  the  eternal  city  itself.  What  Caesar 
did  was  to  stay  this  importunate  stress — for  a  time.  But  not 
even  Caesar  can  permanently  keep  out  the  sea.  To  the  sea 
there  is  but  One  who  can  say,  "  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but 
no  farther :  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed."  And 
Asian  population  was  a  sea.  He  who  "  made  of  one  blood  all 
nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth  " — He 
had  "determined  the  times  before  appointed, and  the  bounds 
of  their  habitation."  The  pre-appointed  times  determined  for 
the  influx  into  southern  Europe  of  emigrant  Asia  had  not 
yet  arrived.  The  bounds  of  the  habitation  of  those  peoples 
were  still  providentially  fixed,  for  a  space,  beyond  the  Rhine. 
Caesar  in  Gaul  was  working  unconsciously  under  Divine 
providence.  His  success  was  far  more  certain  than  he 
knew. 

Caesar  was  disturbed  with  fear  lest  the  incoming  of  the 
Germans  should  unsettle  the  allegiance  of  the  Gauls  to  their 
Roman  master.  What  Caesar  feared  had  in  fact  already 
begun  to  happen.  Some  of  the  Gallic  tribes  had  sent  am- 
bassadors to  the  Germans,  begging  them  to  leave  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine  and  come  on  into  the  interior  of  Gaul.  It  was 
not  Caesar's  way  to  wait  for  difficulties  to  grow  and  thicken 
around  him.  He  liked  to  be  beforehand  with  adverse  cir- 
cumstances. He  forthwith  set  out  with  his  army  to  find  the 
Germans. 

As  he  came  near,  ambassadors  from  the  Germans  met  him, 

desiring  terms  of  peace.     But  Caesar  would  make  no  terms 

with  the  Germans,  as  long  as  they  remained  in  Gaul.     There 

was  no  land  there  to  be  given  away.     However,  if  they  liked 

*to  do  so,  they  might  settle  among  the  U'bi-i. 

The  German  ambassadors  were  at  a  stand.  They  would 
carry  back  Caesar's  reply.  But  would  Caesar  stay  where  he 


Ccesar.  159 

than  was,  and  give  them  a  day  or  two  in  which  to  go  and  re- 
turn ?  (The  two  armies  were  still  some  days'  march  apart.) 
Cassar  would  not  consent.  He  assumed  that  what  the  Ger- 
mans wanted  was  to  gain  time  for  recalling  their  cavalry  from 
a  distant  foraging  expedition. 

The  Roman  army,  which  the  Germans  could  no  more  stop 
by  entreating,  than  by  entreating  they  could  have  stopped 
the  circuit  of  the  earth  about  the  sun,  had  now  come  to 
within  twelve  miles  of  the  enemy,  when  the  German  ambas- 
sadors returned  to  Ccesar.  They  begged  Caesar  to  halt. 
The  earth  kept  moving  and — so  did  Cossar.  'Pray,  then,' 
besought  the  ambassadors,  'pray  at  least  send  orders  in  ad- 
vance to  the  Roman  vanguard  not  to  engage  in  battle  ;  and 
permit  us  meantime  to  send  ambassadors  to  the  Ubii.  If 
the  Ubii  will  engage  under  oath  with  us,  we  will  do  any 
thing  you  say.  But  let  us  have  a  day  or  two  in  which  to 
negotiate.' 

Caesar  avers  he  was  still  suspicious  of  the  Germans.  How- 
ever, he  told  them  he  should  not  advance  more  than  four 
miles  that  day,  this  for  the  sake  of  finding  water.  Let  the 
Germans  come  to  him  at  that  point  in  good  numbers,  (the 
proviso,  in  "good  numbers"  seems  significant — was  Caesar's 
perfidious  purpose  already  in  his  mind  ?)  and  he  would  talk 
with  them.  Meanwhile  Caesar  sent  orders  to  his  vanguard 
not  to  fight  unless  attacked. 

Now  follows  an  incident  which  it  is  very  difficult  to  under- 
stand. Caesar  says  that  as  soon  as  the  enemy  got  sight  of 
the  Roman  horse,  five  thousand  strong,  the  German  horse, 
only  eight  hundred  strong,  fell  upon  these  and  threw  them 
into  disorder.  The  Roman  cavalry  thereupon  making  a 
stand,  the  Germans  leaped  from  their  steeds,  stabbed  Caesar's 
horses  in  the  belly,  and,  overthrowing  many  of  his  soldiers, 
put  the  rest  to  flight.  For  the  first  time  in  his  history,  Caesar 
tells  the  number  of  his  fallen.  There  were  seventy-five, 
among  them  an  illustrious  Aquitanian,  sacred  from  having 


160  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

had  a  grandfather  who  was  once  styled  "  friend  "  by  the  Ro- 
man senate. 

What  follows  in  Caesar's  narrative  is  so  grave  in  its  illus- 
trative bearing  upon  Qesar's  character,  that  we  are  going 
to  satisfy  the  just  curiosity  of  our  readers  by  letting  them 
see  exactly  how  the  writer  states  the  business  for  himself. 
Here,  then,  are  Caesar's  own  words,  in  sufficiently  strict 
translation  : 

After  this  battle,  Caesar  resolved  neither  to  give  audience  to  their  am- 
bassadors, nor  admit  them  to  terms  of  peace,  seeing  they  had  treacher- 
ously applied  for  a  truce,  and  afterward  of  their  own  accord  broken  it. 
lie  likewise  considered  that  it  would  be  downright  madness  to  delay 
coming  to  an  action  until  their  army  should  be  augmented,  and  their 
cavalry  join  them  ;  and  the  more  so,  because  he  was  perfectly  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  levity  of  the  Gauls,  among  whom  they  had  already 
acquired  a  considerable  reputation  by  this  successful  attack,  and  to 
whom  it  therefore  behooved  him  by  no  means  to  allow  time  to  enter  into 
measures  against  him.  Upon  all  these  accounts  he  determined  to  come 
to  an  engagement  with  the  enemy  as  soon  as  possible,  and  communi- 
cated his  design  to  his  quaestor  and  lieutenants.  A  very  lucky  accident 
fell  out  to  bring  about  Caesar's  purpose,  for  the  day  after,  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  Germans  persisting  in  their  treachery  and  dissimulation,  came 
in  great  numbers  to  the  camp  :  all  their  nobility  and  princes  making 
part  of  their  embassy.  Their  design  was,  as  they  pretended,  to  vindi- 
cate themselves  in  regard  to  what  had  happened  the  day  before  ;  because, 
contrary  to  engagements  made  and  come  under  at  their  own  request, 
they  had  fallen  upon  our  men  ;  but  their  real  motive  was  to  obtain  if 
possible  another  insidious  truce.  Caesar,  overjoyed  to  have  them  thus 
in  his  power,  ordered  them  to  be  secured,  and  immediately  drew  his 
forces  out  of  the  camp.  The  cavalry,  whom  he  supposed  terrified  with 
the  late  engagement,  were  commanded  to  follow  in  the  rear. 

Having  drawn  up  his  army  in  three  lines,  and  made  a  very  expedi- 
tious march  of  eight  miles,  he  appeared  before  the  enemy's  camp  before 
they  had  the  least  apprehension  of  his  design.  All  things  conspiring  to 
throw  them  into  a  sudden  consternation,  which  was  not  a  little  increased 
by  our  unexpected  appearance,  and  the  absence  of  their  own  officers ; 
and  hardly  any  time  left  them  either  to  take  counsel  or  fly  to  arms,  they 
were  utterly  at  a  loss  what  course  to  take,  whether  to  draw  out  their 
forces  and  oppose  the  enemy,  or  content  themselves  with  defending  the 


Casar.  1 6 1 

camp,  or,  in  fine,  to  seek  for  safety  in  flight.  As  this  fear  was  evident 
from  the  tumult  and  uproar  we  perceived  among  them,  our  soldiers,  in- 
stigated by  the  remembrance  of  their  treacherous  behavior  the  day  be- 
fore, broke  into  the  camp.  Such  as  could  first  provide  themselves  with 
arms  made  a  show  of  resistance  and  for  some  time  maintained  the  fight 
amidst  the  baggage  and  carriages.  But  the  women  and  children  (for 
the  Germans  had  brought  all  their  families  and  effects  with  them  over 
the  Rhine)  betook  themselves  to  flight  on  all  sides.  Ccesar  sent  the 
cavalry  in  pursuit  of  them. 

The  Germans,  hearing  the  noise  behind  them,  and  seeing  their  wives 
and  children  put  to  the  sword,  threw  down  their  arms,  abandoned  their 
ensigns,  and  fled  out  of  the  camp.  Being  arrived  at  the  confluence  of 
the  Rhine  and  the  Meuse,  and  finding  it  impossible  to  continue  their 
flight  any  farther;  after  a  dreadful  slaughter  of  those  that  pretended 
to  make  resistance,  the  rest  threw  themselves  into  the  river  ;  where, 
what  with  fear,  weariness,  and  the  force  of  the  current,  they  almost  all 
perished.  Thus  our  army,  without  the  loss  of  a  man,  and  with  very  few 
wounded,  returned  to  their  camp,  having  put  an  end  to  this  formidable 
war  in  which  the  number  of  the  enemy  amounted  to  four  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand.  Ctesar  offered  those  whom  he  had  delnined  in  his 
camp  liberty  to  depart  ;  but  they,  dreading  the  resentment  of  the  Gauls, 
•whose  lands  they  had  laid  waste,  chose  rather  to  remain  with  him,  and 
obtained  his  consent  for  that  purpose. 

Readers  will  decide,  each  one  for  himself,  what  measure  of 
reprobation  to  visit  on  the  name  and  memory  of  Ccesar  for 
this  portentous  wholesale  murder  of  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, (to  a  number  equaling,  conceive  it,  the  entire  pop- 
ulation of  a  great  city  like  Boston,)  accomplished  through 
such  violation  of  honor  on  his  part.  It  ought  to  be  observed 
how  Caesar,  with  all  his  care,  very  nearly  convicts  himself  of 
falsifying  in  his  representation  that  he  thought  the  German 
ambassadors  were  trying  to  deceive  him.  For,  after  destroy- 
ing by  hundreds  of  thousands,  men,  women,  and  children 
who  certainly  were  innocent,  then,  the  very  ones,  and  the 
only  ones,  who  were  guilty,  if  any  were  guilty,  namely,  the 
ambassadors,  he  tells  us  himself  he  offered  to  let  go  !  If  one 
could  but  feel  that  this  offer  of  Csesar's  was  the  prompting  of 
remorse  on  his  part !  Alas,  Coesar,  as  we  shall  see  by  and 


1 62  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

by,  in  connection  with  a  later  occasion  of  his  conduct  in 
Gaul — Caesar  was  far  too  conscious  of  clemency  in  himself 
to  be  capable  of  a  gracious  remorse  !  Not  even  Mr.  Froude 
clears  Caesar  here;  and  Caesar's  fellow-senator,  Cato,  (accord- 
ing to  Plutarch,  who  cites  his  authority  for  the  statement,) 
openly  proposed  in  the  Roman  senate  that  Caesar  should  be 
given  up  to  the  enemy  in  punishment  of  his  crime.  This 
proposal  of  Cato's  was  somewhat  like  the  mice's  proposal  to 
put  a  bell  on  the  cat  in  order  that  thenceforward  their  ex- 
posed community  might  upon  occasion  be  seasonably  ap- 
prised of  their  enemy's  approach.  It  was,  perhaps,  in 
either  case,  an  excellent  proposal ;  but  there  was  no  mouse 
found  to  put  the  bell  on  the  cat,  and  there  was  nobody  at 
Rome  or  elsewhere  to  deliver  Caesar  to  the  Germans. 

Perfidy,  Caesar's  detention  of  the  German  envoys  has  gen- 
erally been  called.  There  is,  perhaps,  no  better  name  for 
his  crime.  The  engagement,  however,  which  he  broke,  was 
simply  the  implied  engagement  always  existing  toward  am- 
bassadors. Such  implied  engagement,  Caesar,  as  we  have 
seen,  when  it  suited  him,  insisted  upon  with  much  solem- 
nity. To  us  moderns,  heirs  of  near  twenty  Christian  cent- 
uries, the  cold-bloodedness  of  Caesar's  behavior  in  setting 
lis  dastard  cavalry  to  riding  down  women  and  children, 
and  trampling  them,  by  tens  of  thousands,  into  the  bloody 
dust,  seems  simply  incredible.  But  Caesar  did  the  thing,  for 
he  tells  us  of  it  himself.  Having  once  done  it,  there  was 
no  alternative  for  Caesar,  he  must  then  tell  of  it.  Too  many 
Roman  eyes  saw  the  deed,  for  the  deed  to  remain  secret 
from  Rome.  It  behooved  Caesar  to  put  the  best  face  upon 
the  matter  that  he  could.  And  this,  we  need  not  doubt,  he 
has  done.  It  is  a  fearful  judgment — in  its  nature  quite  ir- 
reversible, indeed  beyond  any  appeal — that  Caesar  has  thus 
passed  upon  himself  before  the  bar  of  posterity.  But  let  us 
not  forget — there  was,  in  the  mere  cruelty  of  this  deed  of 
his,  nothing  to  make  Caesar,  in  the  presence  of  the  public 


Cczsar.  163 

sentiment  of  his  time,  feel  in  the  least  ashamed.  It  was  only 
the  bad  faith,  the  treachery,  of  his  deed,  that  was  doubtful. 
Cato  said  Csesar  was  false.  Nobody,  so  far  as  we  know,  said 
Caesar  was  cruel. 

Mr.  Long,  we  believe  it  is,  in  his  "  Decline  of  the  Roman 
Republic,"  who  points  out  that  Christian  civilization  has  no 
very  clear  case  for  vaunting  itself,  as  ideally  humane  in  war, 
above  the  example  of  the  Romans  and  of  Caesar.  He  records, 
with  disagreeable  pertinency  of  recollection,  instances  of 
barbarous  military  practice,  on  the  part  of  the  English  them- 
selves of  the  nineteenth  century;  and  then,  as  if  to  make  us 
Americans,  too,  dumb  with  conscious  shame,  he  brings  for- 
ward our  national  crimes  of  atrocity  toward  the  Indians,  per- 
petrated in  very  recent  times.  Can  we  not  all  of  us  remem- 
ber when  our  own  gallant  soldiers  in  the  West  murdered 
Indian  men,  women,  and  children,  and  called  it  war  ?  The 
difference,  indeed,  is  great ;  for  the  American  nation  at  large 
burned  with  indignant  remorse. 

We  have  ourselves  claimed  that  Caesar  was  seldom,  if  ever, 
wantonly  cruel.  And  that  massacre  of  the  Germans  was  not 
wanton  cruelty  on  his  part.  He  wished  to  have  those  peo- 
ple annihilated.  The  way  that  he  took  was  the  one  sure 
way  of  annihilating  them.  To  have  fought  them  fairly, 
would  have  been  to  take  upon  himself  the  always  doubtful 
risks  of  war.  And  in  his  heart,  Caesar,  as  the  present  writer 
judges  from  Caesar  himself,  was  afraid  of  the  Germans.  His 
crossing  of  the  Rhine,  now  next  to  be  described,  was  an  act 
of  bravado  on  his  part — in  its  circumstances,  exhibiting 
fear,  the  fear  of  a  brave,  wise  man,  rather  than  confidence. 

Caesar  had  effectually  dispelled  the  present  danger. 
While  the  terror  and  horror  of  such  an  atrocity  was  still  be- 
numbing men's  minds,  he  could  safely  display  his  skill  and 
his  daring  in  a  feat  well  calculated  to  impress  barbarian  sen- 
sibilities with  a  useful  idea  of  Roman  power.  He  would  do 
what  no  Roman  had  ever  yet  done,  he  would  bridge  the 


164  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Rhine  and  cross  it.  It  was  to  be  barren  demonstration,  so 
far  as  any  thing  beyond  impression  on  the  imagination  was 
concerned.  For  he  would  recross  almost  immediately. 
"Avidity  of  fame,"  Plutarch  attributes  as  Caesar's  motive,  in 
this  action  of  his.  He  wished  to  be  the  first  Roman  to  put 
his  head  in  the  lion's  mouth  by  invading  Germany.  He 
crossed  and  he  recrossed  the  Rhine,  and  he  had  his  reward. 

Caesar's  bridge  was  fourteen  hundred  feet  long,  furnishing 
a  solid  roadway  thirty  or  forty  feet  wide,  all  finished  promptly 
enough  to  have  the  whole  army  got  in  safety  across — at  least 
with  no  casualty  reported — within  ten  days  from  the  time 
when  the  first  blow  of  a  Roman  axe  startled  those  distant 
forests.  Just  where  it  was  situated,  is  a  matter  of  much  dis- 
pute. When,  in  your  next  European  tour,  you  visit  Bonn, 
placed  as  that  city  is  about  where  the  Rhine  first  begins  to 
be  picturesque  enough  to  satisfy  the  eye  of  the  traveler  for 
pleasure,  take  an  observation  of  the  locality  and  see  if  you 
do  not  think  the  conditions  go  together  very  well  in  favor  of 
the  neighborhood  of  Bonn  as  the  probable  site  of  Caesar's 
rough-and-ready  bridge.  Cologne  used  to  be  the  favorite 
locality  with  learned  students  of  Caesar ;  but  the  late  Empe- 
ror Napoleon,  who  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  and  money  in 
illustrating  Caesar's  Gallic  campaigns,  gave  his  vote  for  Bonn 
instead  of  Cologne. 

Caesar  now  turns  his  attention  to  another  enterprise,  that 
of  invading  Great  Britain.  He  begins  prudently.  He  dis- 
patches one  Caius  Vol'u-se'nus  with  a  single  ship  of  war,  to 
cross  the  channel,  cruise  about  the  British  coast,  and  bring 
back  such  fruits  of  observation  as  he  may  be  able  to  obtain 
without  landing.  While  this  is  going  on,  the  accustomed 
flow  of  ambassadors  sets  in  toward  Caesar — this  time  from 
Britain.  Certain  "states"  of  the  island  offer  hostages  and 
submit  to  the  Roman  power.  Caesar  hereupon  assumes 
something  of  the  air  of  a  gracious  sovereign  about  to  visit 
his  affectionate  lieges. 


Ccesar.  1 65 

There  were  many  preparations  very  necessary  for  Caesar 
to  make,  which  are  not  at  all  necessary  for  us  here  to  re- 
count. Suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  due  time  the  flotilla  is 
ready,  and  a  few  hours'  sail  brings  Caesar  to  the  British 
coast.  The  cliffs  are  alive  with  islanders,  prepared  to  re- 
ceive their  visitor  with  warlike  welcome. 

The  Britons  are  alert,  and  they  dash  along  the  coast,  with 
horsemen  and  with  chariots  of  war,  to  meet  the  invasion  where 
it  threatened.  The  Romans  have  a  sad  time  of  it  getting 
ashore.  Caesar  notes  it  that  his  soldiers  seemed  not  to  take 
their  chance  of  floundering  through  the  shoal  water  to  land, 
with  any  thing  like  their  wonted  appetite  for  fighting  on  dry 
ground.  He  made  a  display  of  his  vessels  under  motion, 
with  their  military  engines  in  view,  which  demonstration  he 
says  produced  some  impression  of  awe  on  the  barbarians. 
Here  occurs  a  little  incident  which  Caesar,  with  a  for  him 
quite  unusual  condescension  to  dramatic  representation,  re- 
lates in  what  grammarians  call  (pratio  recta]  direct  discourse. 
Our  readers  must  have  this  rare  specimen  of  Caesar  in  the 
lively  mood,  without  change — except  the  necessary  change 
of  literal  translation  from  Latin  into  English  : 

While  our  men  were  hesitating  chiefly  on  account  of  the  depth 
of  the  sea,  he  who  carried  the  eagle  of  the  tenth  legion,  after  sup- 
plicating the  gods,  that  the  matter  might  turn  out  favorably  to  the 
legion,  exclaimed,  "Leap,  fellow-soldiers,  unless  you  wish  to  betray 
your  eagle  to  the  enemy.  I,  for  my  part,  will  perform  my  duty  to  the 
commonwealth  and  my  general."  When  he  had  said  this  with  a  loud 
voice,  he  leaped  from  the  ship  and  proceeded  to  bear  the  eagle  toward 
the  enemy.  Then  our  men,  exhorting  one  another  that  so  great  a  dis- 
grace should  not  be  incurred,  all  leaped  from  the  ship.  When  those  in 
the  nearest  vessels  saw  them,  they  speedily  followed  and  approached  the 
enemy. 

(To  say,  '  cried  out  to  his  fellow-soldiers,  bidding  them 
leap,'  etc.,  would  have  been  (pratio  obliqua)  indiiect  dis- 
course, Caesar's  wonted  form  of  construction.) 

We  hardly  need  follow  with  further  detail  the  incidents  of 


1 66  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

this  British  adventure  of  Cresar.  The  historian  tries  to  give 
the  affair  something  like  historic  dignity.  The  truth,  how- 
ever, is  that  Caesar's  first  visit  to  Great  Britain  was  by  no 
means  a  very  glorious  thing.  He  is  compelled  himself  to 
admit  that  his  usual  good  fortune  Tailed  him  in  one  impor- 
tant particular — his  cavalry  had  not  arrived,  and  he  could  not 
pursue  the  enemy.  The  enemy  had  an  extremely  light  way 
of  dealing  with  the  Romans.  They  made  peace  by  sur- 
render, and  by  promise  of  hostages,  and  then,  watching  their 
chance,  they,  with  easy  adjustment  to  circumstances,  made 
war  again  when  the  Romans  seemed  to  be  in  extremity. 
Altogether,  Caesar,  as  narrator,  has  his  match  to  make  out 
any  thing  beyond  the  story  of  a  fairly  successful  escape,  on 
his  part,  from  the  dangers  of  an  ostentatious  and  barren  ex- 
cursion to  Great  Britain.  What  with  the  fickle,  but  always 
warlike,  Britons  careering  around  among  the  Roman  ranks 
with  their  chariots  of  war,  the  unexpectedly  high  tides 
swamping  the  beached  galleys  of  the  invaders  on  the  land, 
the  furious  storms  crushing  their  floating  vessels  one  against 
another  on  the  water,  the  wretched  trouble  the  honest 
legionaries  had  of  it  reaping  for  themselves  in  the  British 
harvest-fields,  under  the  weapons  of  the  rightful  owners  of  the 
harvests — Caesar  did  well  that  he  got  off  from  Great  Britain 
at  all.  He  had  a  thanksgiving  of  twenty  days  decreed  to 
him  for  the  success  of  the  campaign. 

We  will  venture  to  guess  that  there  were  moments  of 
emergency  to  Csesar  in  Great  Britain,  when  he  would  gladly 
have  relinquished  several  days  out  of  the  glorious  twenty,  to 
be  perfectly  certain  that  he  should  himself  at  last  get  back 
to  Rome  with  a  whole  skin. 

What  would  Csesar  have  said,  had  it  been  revealed  to  him 
that  the  time  was  coming  when  Britons  could  set  out  from 
London  in  a  palace  on  wheels,  and  ride,  reading,  feasting,  or 
sleeping  at  pleasure,  like  kings,  the  whole  distance  to  Rome, 
accomplishing  the  journey  with  more  comfort  than  Caesar 


Ccesar.  167 

himself  perhaps  enjoyed  in  his  own  princely  dwelling  at 
home,  all  within  the  space  of  fifty-three  hours  !  Such  is  the 
miracle  of  locomotion  achieved  in  our  days. 

FIFTH  BOOK. 

We  have  already  in  the  preceding  pages  gone  over,  with  a 
fair  degree  of  fullness,  that  portion  of  Caesar's  Gallic  Com- 
mentaries which,  to  the  student  aiming  at  preparation  for 
entering  college,  is  usually  prescribed  for  his  reading  in  the 
original  Latin.  Gallic  Commentaries,  observe,  we  say.  For 
besides  the  Gallic  Commentaries  there  are  commentaries  of 
Caesar  concerning  the  civil  war  waged  between  himself  and 
Pompey.  This  last  book  contains  very  interesting  and  very 
important  history.  But  Caesar's  commentaries  on  the  civil 
war  are  seldom  or  never  read  in  the  so-styled  Preparatory 
Course.  That  work,  therefore,  of  Caesar's  we  here  dismiss 
with  the  mere  mention  of  it  thus  already  made. 

We  beg  to  call  our  reader's  attention  to  a  fact  that  will 
interest  them.  You  are  now  engaged  in  studying  history, 
almost,  not  quite,  at  first  hand.  You  are  not  reading  ex- 
actly Caesar's  own  words,  for  you  read  in  English,  not  in 
Latin ;  and  besides,  you  take,  in  large  part,  the  present 
writer's  redaction  or  interpretation  of  Caesar  upon  trust. 
Those,  however,  who  read  the  Latin  itself  of  Ccesar's  Com- 
mentaries, enjoy,  in  doing  so,  what  is  a  very  rare  privilege, 
the  privilege  of  reading  history  written,  in  nearly  every  part 
of  it,  by  an  exceptionally  well-sitiiated  eye-witness  of  the 
transactions  described. 

Very  little  of  the  history  that  we  have  in  any  language 
bears  this  character.  Nearly  all  the  history  of  the  world  is 
given  to  us  by  authors  who,  for  their  information,  have  been 
obliged  to  rely  upon  testimony.  The  testimony  relied  upon 
is  in  many  cases  somewhat  remote,  and  not  unfrequently  it 
reaches  the  historian  transmitted  indirectly  through  several 
different  hands.  History  accordingly  is  a  sphere  of  study 


1 68  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

in  which  there  is  room  for  the  exercise  of  much  critical  dis- 
crimination, in  the  giving  and  refusing  of  credit.  When  we 
read  Caesar  telling  of  things  that  he  saw,  and  the  chief  part 
of  which  he  himself  was,  we  may  rest  assured  that  we  have 
no  occasion  for  being  distrustful,  at  least  on  the  score  of  de- 
fective opportunity  enjoyed  by  the  historian.  What  hap- 
pened within  the  range  of  his  narrative,  Caesar  knew.  More 
than  this.  Ceesar,  as  we  suppose,  wrote  his  Commentaries  on 
the  spot  and  at  the  time.  He  did  not  wait  long  enough  be- 
fore writing  to  remember  wrong  when  he  wrote.  Thus  all 
we  have  to  guard  against  in  reading  Caesar,  is  conscious  and 
intentional  misrepresentation  on  his  part.  But  the  tone  of 
his  writing  is  such  that,  in  the  main,  our  belief  of  what  he 
says  is  irresistibly  compelled.  We  may,  at  any  rate,  re- 
ceive undoubtingly  whatever  he  tells  us  that  makes  against 
himself. 

Xenophon  is  another  example  of  the  historian  writing  at 
first  hand.  His  narrative  of  the  famous  expedition  of  Cyrus 
against  his  brother — expedition  made  famous  by  the  narra- 
tive it  occasioned — and  of  the  adventurous  return  of  the  gal- 
lant Ten  Thousand  to  Greece — derives  its  charm  and  its 
value  largely  from  the  fact  that  the  author  himself  saw  and 
shared  what  he  described.  Long  after  Xenophon,  came  a 
different  Greek  author,  who,  imitating  Xenophon  as  master, 
produced  a  history  of  Alexander's  invasion  and  conquest  of 
the  East.  This  history  he,  after  the  title  of  Xenophon's 
work,  called  the  "Anabasis  of  Alexander."  Arrian  is  the 
name  of  the  author  referred  to.  Arrian  was  of  an  age  four 
centuries  later  than  Alexander.  His  narrative  has  historical 
value,  for  he  drew  from  original  sources ;  but  it  lacks  both 
the  peculiar  authority  and  the  peculiar  interest  that  would 
have  attached  to  the  narrative  of  a  man  actually  accompany- 
ing Alexander  in  camp  and  in  march.  Among  Roman  his- 
torians, Qesar  stands  almost  alone  as  writer  of  first-hand 
history.  Sallust,  as  readers  will  recall,  has  the  characteristic 


Cczsar.  169 

marks  of  a  narrator  and  describer  not  present  in  the  scenes 
with  which  he  deals.  The  same  is  true  of  Livy.  Tacitus, 
too,  treats  of  matters  of  which  he  had  to  learn  by  investiga- 
tion through  others.  This  derivative  character  does  not 
necessarily  discredit  the  historian  to  whom  it  belongs.  The 
difference,  however,  between  first-hand  and  second-hand  his- 
tory, it  is  well  always  to  bear  in  mind.  We  shall  judge  the 
one  somewhat  differently  from  the  way  in  which  we  judge 
the  other. 

One  more  caution  is  to  be  observed.  In  the  case  of  an 
historian  translated,  we  must  take  care  not  unjustly  to  charge 
errors  committed  by  the  translator  to  the  account  of  his 
original.  A  relevant  instance  is  supplied  by  collation  of 
Caesar  with  Plutarch — with  Plutarch,  not  as  Plutarch  wrote, 
but  as  Plutarch  was  carelessly  translated.  Two  brothers 
Langhorne  produced  a  version  of  Plutarch,  still  current  in  an 
edition  issued  by  the  Harpers.  This  version  represents  Plu- 
tarch, (at  a  point  occurring  in  connection  with  the  account 
of  that  incident  in  Caesar's  Gallic  career,  as  to  which  he  was 
accused  by  Cato  in  the  senate  of  perfidy  toward  the  Ger- 
mans) as  giving  to  Caesar  eight  hundred  horse  not  ready  for 
battle,  with  which  to  beat  the  Germans'  eight  thousand.  The 
numbers  mentioned  are  exactly  transposed  from  Caesar's 
report;  but  the  error  is  the  translators',  not  Plutarch's.  Ar- 
thur Hugh  dough's  edition  of  Plutarch  translated  is  a  more 
trustworthy  book  than  the  Langhornes'. 

The  fifth  book  of  Caesar's  Commentaries  sees  the  tables 
sharply  turned  on  the  Romans.  This  whole  book  is  mainly 
one  unbroken  record  of  disaster  to  Caesar's  arms,  disaster 
retrieved,  but  barely  retrieved,  from  being  irreparable  dis- 
aster. It  would,  perhaps,  be  a  certain  hard  relief  to  our 
readers'  sympathies,  so  long  almost  exclusively  engaged  on 
the  side  of  the  barbarians  as  the  weaker  and  the  more 
suffering  of  the  two  parties  at  war — it  might,  we  say,  take  a 
weight  off  the  depressed  feelings  of  our  readers,  if  they 
8 


i  jo  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

could  dwell  in  some  detail  on  the  heavy  compensating  mis- 
fortunes experienced  now  in  their  turn  by  the  Romans.  But 
this  the  requirements  of  space  forbid.  We  must  be  rapid 
and  short.  We  can  promise,  however,  to  be  fairly  enter- 
taining. That  the  matter  itself  will  insure. 

There  is  an  episode  to  begin  with — the  episode  of  a  second 
and  last  expedition,  on  Caesar's  part,  to  Great  Britain.  With- 
out much  more  effort,  that  is  permitted  to  appear  in  his 
story,  than  the  mere  word  of  command  from  his  mouth, 
Csesar  gets  together  a  fleet  of  some  eight  hundred  sail  all 
told — there  are  reckoned  into  this  total  a  number  of  private 
bottoms,  probably  ventures  in  merchant  speculation — and 
with  this  numerically  formidable  armada  he  reaches  the 
coast  of  Great  Britain.  The  commander  goes  attended  with 
a  numerous  staff.  For  Cassar  compels  (Mr.  Froude  says 
"  requests  ")  the  chiefs  of  Gaul,  with  their  retinue,  to  accom- 
pany him  on  his  British  expedition,  as  a  kind  of  cavalry 
escort. 

Our  old  friend  Dumnorix,  the  yEduan  patriot,  does  not 
like  the  idea  of  taking  this  trip  with  Cresar.  He  objects  in 
every  way  possible,  and  Cassar  in  every  way  possible  insists. 
Cassar  of  course  prevails.  That  is,  he  supposes  he  prevails. 
But  in  fact  Dumnorix,  without  the  knowledge  of  Cassar, 
slips  off  for  home  with  the  ^Eduan  horse.  This  never  would 
do.  Caesar  wanted  all  the  Gallic  chiefs  with  him,  but  es- 
pecially Dumnorix.  As  companions  of  his  on  the  voyage, 
they  would  be  virtual  hostages  for  their  own  good  behavior, 
and  for  the  good  behavior  of  their  nations,  during  the  period 
of  his  absence  from  Gaul.  Dumnorix — nobody  could  be 
hostage  for  him — nobody  but  Dumnorix  himself.  Dumnorix 
at  least  could  in  no  wise  be  spared.  On  the  very  eve  of  em- 
barkation, Cassar  gives  over  his  voyage,  till  Dumnorix  be 
taken.  He  is  taken,  but  he  is  not  taken  alive.  He  falls, 
stoutly  resisting,  and  calling  on  his  countrymen  to  support 
him.  Again  and  again,  with  vain  protestation,  he  exclaimed, 


Ccssar.  171 

"  I  am  a  free  man,  and  I  belong  to  a  free  state."  (The 
JEduan  territory  had,  in  fact,  not  been  reduced  to  a  province 
of  Rome.)  Farewell  to  Dumnorix  ! 

There  is  nothing  now,  this  business  being  well  dispatched, 
to  detain  Caesar,  and  he  sets  sail  as  we  have  said.  Having 
landed  and  encamped,  he  encounters  once  more  a  former 
enemy  of  his — a  British  storm.  His  ships  are  badly  shat- 
tered. But  what  can  withstand  Caesar?  He  speaks  a  word, 
and  his  ships  are  tugged  and  lugged  with  main  strength  on 
shore,  and  there  fortified  within  the  same  lines  as  his  camp. 
This  operation  took  about  ten  days  and  nights,  for  the  men 
worked  continuously — in  relays,  let  us  trust — all  the  twenty- 
four  hours  through. 

We  pass  over  a  bit  of  British  geography  by  Caesar,  to  tell 
briefly  what  happened  in  the  way  of  warlike  operations.  The 
Romans  have  active  work  of  it  fighting  with  the  poor  islanders. 
Cas'si-ve-lau'nus  is  the  name  of  the  British  leader.  He 
adopts  a  kind  of  guerrilla  plan  of  operations.  When  the 
Roman  cavalry  rode  forth  to  "plunder  and  ravage" — honest 
industries,  which  Caesar  mentions  with  the  most  business-like, 
matter-of-course  calmness — the  British  charioteers  would 
rush  out  of  the  skirting  woods,  and  sadly  interfere  with  their 
foreign  visitors'  work.  Nothing,  by  the  way,  is  said  by 
Caesar  of  those  British  war-chariots'  being  armed  at  the 
wheels  with  scythes.  The  scythe-bearing  chariots  of  the 
ancient  Britons,  of  which  we  have  all  heard  so  much,  are 
probably  a  myth.  Caesar  would  certainly  have  mentioned 
the  scythes,  if  scythes  there  had  been. 

Of  attack  and  repulse,  of  retreat  and  pursuit,  of  slaughter 
and  capture,  of  embassy  and  reply,  of  surrender  proposed 
and  hostages  demanded,  of  all  the  vicissitudes  of  this  wanton 
and  gratuitous  war,  the  upshot  is  that  Caesar  gets  off  at  last 
in  safety,  and,  as  he  represents  it,  even  in  a  certain  barren 
and  ambiguous  triumph.  The  account  closes  with  a  passage 
worth  our  quoting.  Caesar  covers  the  emptiness  of  his  mill- 


172  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

tary  performance  in  Britain  with  a  rhetorical  flourish  about 
his  own  good  fortune.  This  is  a  topic  on  which  he  never 
tires  of  enlarging.  It  is  not  mere  curiosity  on  his  own  part 
that  prompts  the  treatment  of  this  topic,  nor  is  it  a  good- 
natured  wish  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  his  readers.  It  is  a 
motive  of  thrift.  Prosperity  prospers.  Caesar  wants  every 
body  to  understand  that  Caesar  is  prosperous.  Here,  then,  is 
the  passage,  in  which  Caesar  thinks  it  comportable  with  his 
dignity  to  dismiss  the  story  of  his  adventures  in  Britain  : 

And  it  so  happened,  that  out  of  so  large  a  number  of  ships,  in  so  many 
voyages,  neither  in  this  nor  in  the  previous  year  was  any  ship  missing 
which  conveyed  soldiers  ;  but  very  few  out  of  those  which  were  sent 
back  to  him  from  the  continent  empty,  as  the  soldiers  of  the  former 
convoy  had  been  disembarked,  and  out  of  those  (sixty  in  number)  which 
Labienus  had  taken  care  to  have  built,  reached  their  destination  ;  al- 
most all  the  rest  were  driven  back,  and  when  Caesar  had  waited  for  them 
for  some  time  in  vain,  lest  he  should  be  deterred  from  a  voyage  by  the 
season  of  the  year,  inasmuch  as  the  equinox  was  at  hand,  he  of  necessity 
stowed  his  soldiers  the  more  closely,  and,  a  very  great  calm  coming  on, 
after  he  had  weighed  anchor  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  watch,  he 
reached  land  at  break  of  day  and  brought  hi  all  the  ships  in  safety. 

Returned  to  Gaul,  Caesar  found  that  the  harvests  there,  on 
account  of  droughts,  were  poor.  He  felt  compelled,  accord- 
ingly, to  depart  from  his  prudent  previous  practice,  and  for 
that  winter  distribute  his  legions.  This  seemed  to  offer  to 
the  natives  their  chance.  There  was  a  general  movement 
commenced  to  fall  on  all  the  Roman  camps  simultaneously, 
and  overpower  them  one  by  one.  Am-bi'o-rix,  a  crafty  native 
chief,  practices  successfully  on  the  simplicity  of  a  lieutenant 
of  Caesar  who  had  no  right  to  be  simple.  It  was  none  other 
than  our  old  acquaintance,  Titurius  Sabinus,  the  author  of 
that  deception  which,  our  readers  will  remember,  in  the 
third  book,  brought  such  calamity  on  the  Gauls.  Ambiorix 
induces  Titurius  to  forsake  his  winter-quarters,  for  the  pur- 
pose (proposed  to  him  by  his  enemy)  of  seeking  greater 
safety  by  joining  the  Roman  legion  nearest  his  present  posi- 


Cccsar.  173 

tion.  On  the  way,  an  ambuscade  surprises  the  Roman  force  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  address  and  courage  of  Titurius's 
colleague,  Cotta,  who  had  throughout  opposed  the  movement 
to  retire,  the  Romans  were  all  cut  in  pieces,  save  a  remnant 
who  fell  back  into  the  just-forsaken  camp.  The  standard- 
bearer,  overpowered — Csesar  gives  his  name — with  last,  des- 
perate, unconquerable  strength  flings  his  eagle  before  him 
within  the  intrenchments,  where,  during  the  hopeless  night 
that  followed,  the  proud  Romans  all  to  a  man  put  an  end 
to  their  own  lives.  The  destruction  of  the  legion  was  sub- 
stantially complete.  Some  stragglers  only  escaped  to  tell 
the  tale  to  Labienus. 

The  great  orator  Cicero  has  a  brother,  Quintus  Cicero, 
among  Caesar's  lieutenants.  This  officer  was  next  attacked 
by  the  Gauls.  Csesar  represents  his  lieutenant  Cicero's  con- 
duct as  every  thing  that  could  have  been  desired  by  his  illus- 
trious brother  in  the  capital. 

The  annihilated  Nervii,  of  whom  Csesar  told  us  in  the  sec- 
ond book  of  his  Commentaries,  re-appear  unaccountably  here, 
and,  it  would  seem,  for  an  annihilated  nation,  in  very  con- 
siderable force.  Here  is  what  Cassar  tells  us  of  them  and  of 
their  work.  How  much,  think  you,  did  eagerness  for  revenge 
stimulate  these  brave,  fierce  fellows  in  their  incredible  toils  ? 

The  Nervians  .  .  .  surrounded  the  camp  with  a  line,  whose  rampart 
was  eleven  feet  high,  and  ditch  fifteen  feet  deep.  They  had  learned 
something  of  this  in  former  wars  with  Caesar,  and  the  prisoners  they  had 
made  gave  them  further  instructions.  But  being  unprovided  with  the 
tools  necessary  in  this  kind  of  service,  they  were  obliged  to  cut  the  turf 
with  their  swords,  dig  up  the  earth  with  their  hands,  and  carry  it  in  their 
cloaks.  And  hence  it  will  be  easy  to  form  some  judgment  of  their  num- 
ber ;  for  in  less  than  three  hours  they  completed  a  line  of  fifteen  miles  in 
circuit.  The  following  days  were  employed  in  raising  towers,  propor- 
tioned to  the  height  of  our  rampart,  and  in  preparing  scythes,  and 
wooden  galleries,  in  which  they  were  again  assisted  by  the  prisoners. 

In  near  sequel  to  this  comes  an  episode  so  very  romantic, 
and  so  far  outside  of  the  limits  within  which  Csesar  usually 


174  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

confines  his  narration,  that  our  readers  will  like  to  have  seen 
it  in  the  translated  text  of  the  original : 

In  this  legion  were  two  centurions  of  distinguished  valor,  T.  Pul'fi-o 
and  L.  Va-re'nus,  who  stood  fair  for  being  raised  to  the  first  rank  of  their 
order.  These  were  perpetually  disputing  with  one  another  the  pre- 
eminence in  courage,  and  at  every  year's  promotion  contended  with 
great  eagerness  for  precedence.  In  the  heat  of  the  attack  before  the 
ramparts,  Pulfio  addressing  Varenus,  "  What  hinders  you  now,  (says  he,) 
or  what  more  glorious  opportunity  would  you  desire  of  signalizing  your 
bravery?  This,  this  is  the  day  for  determining  the  controversy 
between  us."  At  these  words  he  sallied  out  of  the  camp,  and  rushed 
amid  the  thickest  of  the  Gauls.  Nor  did  Varenus  decline  the  challenge  ; 
but,  thinking  his  honor  at  stake,  followed  at  some  distance.  Pulfio 
darted  his  javelin  at  the  enemy,  and  transfixed  a  Gaul  that  was  coming 
forward  to  engage  him  ;  who,  falling  dead  of  the  wound,  the  multitude 
advanced  to  cover  him  with  their  shields,  and  all  poured  their  darts 
upon  Pulfio,  giving  him  no  time  to  retire.  A  javelin  pierced  his  shield 
and  stuck  fast  in  his  belt.  This  accident,  entangling  his  right  hand, 
prevented  him  from  drawing  his  sword,  and  gave  the  enemy  time  to 
surround  him.  Varenus,  his  rival,  flew  to  his  assistance,  and  endeavored 
to  rescue  him.  Immediately  the  multitude,  quitting  Pulfio,  as  fancying 
the  dart  had  dispatched  him,  all  turned  upon  Varenus.  He  met  them 
with  his  sword  drawn,  charged  them  hand  to  hand,  and  having  laid  one 
dead  at  his  feet,  drove  back  the  rest ;  but,  pursuing  with  too  much 
eagerness,  stepped  into  a  hole,  and  fell  down.  Pulfio,  in  his  turn,  hast- 
ened to  extricate  him ;  and  both  together,  after  having  slain  a  multitude 
of  the  Gauls,  and  acquired  infinite  applause,  retired  unhurt  within  the 
intrenchments.  Thus  fortune  gave  such  a  turn  to  the  dispute  that  each 
owed  his  life  to  his  adversary  ;  nor  was  it  possible  to  decide  to  which  of 
them  the  prize  of  valor  was  due. 

The  situation,  meantime,  became  daily  more  critical  for 
distressed  Cicero.  But  he  was  relieved  at  last  by  the  coin- 
ing of  Cassar.  It  was  an  occasion  in  some  features  like 
Havelock's  famous  relief  of  Lucknow.  Cicero  despatched  to 
Caesar  messenger  after  messenger  with  news  of  his  piteous 
plight.  Of  these  messengers,  some  were  seized  by  the  en- 
emy and  tortured  to  death  in  the  sight  of  the  Romans.  At 
last  a  Nervian  in  Cicero's  quarters  got  a  Gallic  slave  of  his 


Ccesar.  175 

to  risk  his  life  for  his  freedom,  with  riches,  in  an  attempt 
to  communicate  with  Caesar.  This  Gaul  reached  Caesar  in 
safety.  Let  us  hope  that  he  duly  received  his  promised 
reward. 

Caesar  at  once  takes  his  measures.  He  speeds  to  Cicero  a 
return  messenger,  whom  he  bids,  if  unable  to  enter  the  en- 
closure, throw  in  his  spear  with  the  letter  tied  to  it.  This 
the  messenger  did,  and  it  so  happened  that  the  spear  stuck 
in  a  tower,  where  it  remained  for  two  days  not  observed. 
The  third  day  Cicero  got  it,  and  read  to  the  rejoicing  legion- 
aries Caesar's  promise  of  speedy  relief.  About  the  same  mo- 
ment, smoke  of  fires  seen  in  the  distance  announced  to  the 
beleaguered  Romans  the  actual  approach  of  Caesar.  The 
final  result  was  decisive  victory  for  the  Romans. 

The  chief  peril  was  now  past,  but  the  winter  kept  bringing 
fresh  anxieties  to  Caesar,  who  had  this  time  to  forego  his  ac- 
customed annual  visit  to  Italy. 

The  fifth  book  closes  without  mention  made  of  any  thanks- 
giving decreed  at  Rome  for  Caesar's  successes,  and  Caesar  has 
no  concluding  paragraph  in  self-complacent  celebration  of 
his  own  good  fortune. 

SIXTH  BOOK. 

Caesar  resolved  to  show  the  Gauls  how  Romans  behaved 
themselves  in  the  presence  of  reverses  to  their  arms.  He 
made  a  new  levy  of  troops;  the  cohorts  lost  under  Titurius, 
he  replaced  with  a  double  number  of  soldiers,  and  he  bor- 
rowed a  legion  from  his  fellow-triumvir,  Pompey.  Thus 
strengthened  in  force,  Caesar  further  strengthened  himself 
with  speed ;  for  he  began  his  new  campaign  before  the  win- 
ter was  over.  Observing  that  in  the  customary  annual  con- 
gress of  Gaul,  summoned  by  him,  the  Sen'o-nes  failed  to 
appear,  Caesar,  with  prompt  audacity,  at  once  transfers  the 
place  of  meeting  to  their  neighborhood.  He  goes  to  Paris, 
(Lu-te'tia  Par-is-i-o'rurn.)  How  modern  and  how  real  this 
name  makes  the  history  seem  !  From  Paris,  with  those 


176  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

forced  marches  of  his  which  so  often  accomplished  so  much 
for  his  cause,  he  brings  his  legions  into  the  country  of  the 
Senones.  Acco,  the  head  of  the  revolt,  calls  on  the  Senones 
to  muster  into  their  towns.  But  the  sudden  apparition  of 
the  Romans  overawes  them,  and  they  send  in  their  sur- 
render. Caesar  accepts  their  submission — for  the  sake  of 
his  friends,  the  ^Eduans,  to  whom  he  hands  over  for  safe 
keeping  the  hundred  hostages  exacted.  It  will  turn  out 
to  have  been  a  confidence  ill  placed.  In  the  end,  even  the 
trusted  y£duans  will  rise  against  Csesar. 

Csesar  never,  perhaps,  in  any  other  instance,  evinced  so 
much  personal  feeling  to  ripple  the  habitual  viscid  flux  of 
his  glacial  cold-bloodedness,  as  in  the  instance  of  Ambiorix, 
that  subtle  deceiver  and  destroyer  of  Titurius  with  his  legion. 
With  noticeable  energy  of  expression,  Csesar  remarks  that, 
the  Senones  disposed  of,  he  "  applied  himself  entirely,  both 
in  mind  and  in  soul,  to  the  war  with  the  Trev'i-ri  and  Am- 
biorix." It  might  be  said  that  to  make  an  end  of  Ambiorix 
the  campaign  is  chiefly  directed.  It  seems  not  so  much 
victory  as  revenge  that  Csesar  seeks.  He  fairly  thirsts  for 
Ambiorix's  blood.  Caesar  will  die  thirsting,  for  Ambiorix's 
blood  he  is  destined  never  to  taste.  But  it  was  a  hot  and 
eager  hunt,  with  many  a  slip  'twixt  cup  and  lip  for  the  hunter, 
and  many  a  hair-breadth  escape  for  the  hunted.  Csesar's 
good  fortune  was  at  fault  again. 

Csesar  hunted  with  as  much  of  patience  and  of  prudence 
as  of  zeal.  He  first  went  at  the  Me-na'pi-i  and  the  Treviri, 
and  disposed  of  them. 

But  now  Ambiorix  might  find  refuge  among  the  Germans. 
Caesar  must  bridge  the  Rhine  again,  and  provide  against  that. 
The  Suevi  have,  he  learns  on  getting  over,  retired  to  the  far- 
ther boundary  of  their  possessions,  there  to  await  the  on-com- 
ing of  the  Romans.  With  this  space  between  himself  and 
his  foe,  Caesar  pauses  to  amuse  his  readers  with  a  circum- 
stantial account  of  the  Germans  and  the  Gauls,  described  in 


Ccesar.  177 

mutual  contrast  with  each  other.  Almost  every  body  likes 
to  read  travelers'  stories ;  and  when  the  traveler  is  Caius 
Julius  Ccesar,  and  the  scene  of  the  travels  is  ancient  France 
and  Germany,  the  story  is  likely  to  be  worth  reading.  Still, 
the  inexorable  laws  of  space  forbid  our  including  it  here. 

From  his  geographical  digression,  Caesar  gets  back  to  say 
that  he  resolved  not  to  follow  the  Suevi  into  their  forests. 
Not,  however,  entirely  to  free  the  Germans  from  uncertain 
apprehension  as  to  what  he  may  yet  do,  he  leaves  a  large 
part  of  his  bridge  standing.  He  now  himself  in  person  sets 
forth  in  chase  of  Ambiorix.  His  march  lay  through  the 
Gallic  forest  of  Ar-du-en'na.  (Our  readers  will  recall  Byron's 
stanza  in  memory  by  anticipation  of  those  destined  to  fall  on 
the  field  of  Waterloo,  beginning 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  green  leaves. 

Byron  was  a  poet,  not  a  topographer.  He  was  nearly  enough 
right,  but  you  must  not  rely  too  literally  on  the  locality  he 
thus  seems  to  give  to  the  forest.  What  he  wanted  was  the 
romantic  name,  Ardennes,  to  grace  the  pathos  of  his  verse.) 

But  Caesar's  phlegm  was  too  much  quickened.  He  could 
not  wait.  He  sent  on  the  cavalry  in  advance,  <;  all  the  cav- 
alry," to  surprise  Ambiorix,  if  possible.  The  cavalry  are  not 
to  build  camp-fires.  The  enemy  would  see  them.  They 
must  take  their  rations  cold,  perhaps  raw;  bare  grain,  very 
likely,  which  they  must  champ  like  their  steeds.  The  cav- 
alry surpass  themselves  in  speed.  They  surprise  and  capt- 
ure "many  in  the  field" — many,  but  not  Ambiorix.  Caesar 
has  to  moralize  about  "  fortune."  The  cavalry  came  fairly 
upon  Ambiorix.  They  got  everything  that  belonged  to  him, 
his  horses,  his  chariots,  his  weapons,  but  him  not.  A  few  fol- 
lowers of  his  made  a  momentary  stand  against  the  Roman 
onset.  They  meantime  mounted  Ambiorix,  and  he  escaped. 

But  Ambiorix's  people  had  a  lamentable  lot.  They  were 
dispersed  in  every  direction,  each  man  looking  out  for  himself. 
8* 


178  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Ambiorix's  colleague,  King  Cat-i-vol'cus,  infirm  and  old, 
called  down  every  curse  on  Ambiorix  and  poisoned  himself. 
Caesar's  purpose  was  fell.  He  wished  to  root  out  that  "stock 
of  wicked  men."  In  order  not  to  risk  precious  Roman  sol- 
diers in  the  forests,  he  called  in  the  neighboring  tribes  to  the 
hunt,  making  Ambiorix's  nation,  the  Ebu rones,  a  free  and 
common  prey  to  all.  It  was  better  economy,  Caesar  thought, 
to  throw  away  Gallic  lives  than  Roman,  in  so  dangerous  a 
chase.  But  at  some  rate,  "  the  stock  and  name  of  the  state  " 
must  "for  such  a  crime  be  abolished."  Again  Caesar  feels 
called  upon  to  speak  of  the  powerful  influence  exercised  in 
war  by  fortune.  His  promising  plan  for  the  extermination 
of  the  Eburones  comes  near  costing  him  a  lieutenant  and  a 
legion. 

For,  from  even  beyond  the  Rhine,  who  should  hear  of  this 
fine  free  hunt  in  progress,  and  come  forward  for  their  share 
of  the  booty,  but  the  Sicambri  ?  (Sicambrians  perhaps  we 
should  say,  to  be  English.  But  Shakespeare  says  "  Nervii," 
not  Nervians.  There  seems  to  be  no  practicable  way  of 
being  uniform  in  this  matter,  except  to  be  uniformly  Latin. 
Some  of  the  proper  names  have  acquired  for  themselves  no 
established  English  equivalent — Remi,  Bellovaci,  for  exam- 
ples. We  preferred,  upon  the  whole,  to  do  as  we  have  done, 
that  is,  use  our  readers  gradually  to  the  Latin  forms,  by  em- 
ploying these  in  occasional  free  interchange  with  the  En- 
glish.) These  freebooters,  the  Sicambri,  however,  have  it 
whispered  to  them  that  there  is  a  richer  chance.  What 
need  prevent  their  surprising  and  taking  Quintus  Cicero  with 
his  command?  The  prize  would  be  immense.  Cicero,  by 
order  from  Caesar,  is  keeping  his  soldiers  very  close  within 
the  intrenchments.  At  length,  however,  a  party  of  the  re- 
covered sick  and  wounded,  with  a  large  retinue  of  slaves  and 
beasts  of  burden,  make  a  sally  for  foraging.  At  this  very 
moment,  up  come  the  Germans  and  throw  the  camp  into 
panic  confusion.  This  is  the  self-same  spot  on  which  Titu- 


Ccesar.  179 

rins  and  his  legion  were  destroyed.  The  soldiers  think  it  a 
doomed  place.  It  is  now  that  our  friend,  Publius  Sextius 
Baculus,  springing  up  from  a  sick  bed,  faint  with  a  five-days' 
fast,  performs  his  prodigy  of  will  and  valor  and  saves  the 
camp.  The  foraging  party  suffer  loss,  but  some  even  of 
these  get  back  safe  to  camp.  Not  till  Caesar  arrives  do  the 
soldiers  recover  from  their  fright.  It  affected  Caesar  sadly 
to  reflect  how  what  he  had  plotted  well  for  the  injury  of 
Ambiorix  had  thus  turned  out  actually  to  the  advantage  of 
that  detestable  man. 

However,  the  hunt  was  resumed.  Thorough  work  Caesar 
made  of  it.  His  plan  was  nothing  less  than  to  remove  every 
cover  that  could  hide  the  fugitive.  Far  and  wide  the  horse- 
men rode  to  burn  every  human  dwelling  in  the  land  of  the 
Eburones.  The  soldiers,  many  of  them,  kindled  with  the 
hope  of  acquiring  the  highest  favor  with  Caesar,  almost  killed 
themselves,  he  tells  us,  with  their  exertions  to  catch  Am- 
biorix. They  again  and  again  just  missed  him,  but  he 
finally  never  was  caught.  Ccesar  had  to  content  himself,  as 
best  he  could,  without  his  Ambiorix. 

He  closes  his  sixth  book  with  mention  of  several  matters 
dispatched  by  him  before  his  setting  out  for  Italy.  Among 
these  was  the  execution  of  Acco,  the  head  of  the  late  con- 
federate revolt.  Our  readers  will  perhaps  be  interested  to 
know  how  this  was  accomplished.  Well,  to  use  Caesar's  own 
soft  phrase,  Acco  was  put  to  death  "  in  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  the  fathers."  This  meant,  if  we  may  trust  the  ex- 
planation supplied  by  Suetonius  in  his  "  Life  of  Nero,"  that, 
stripped  naked,  the  victim  was  fastened  by  the  neck  in  a 
forked  stake,  and  then  scourged  till  he  died.  With  much 
justness  of  sentiment,  Caesar  hints  in  passing  that  this  sen- 
tence of  his  on  Acco  was  "  rather  sharp."  We  can  only 
guess  what  would  have  happened  to  Ambiorix  had  he  been 
captured.  Perhaps,  indeed,  Acco  suffered  a  little  vicariouslv, 
to  satisfy  the  exasperated  feelings  of  Caesar  disappointed  of 


i  So  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

his  prey  in  the  person  of  hateful  Ambiorix,  hunted  by  him  so 
long  in  vain. 

SEVENTH  BOOK. 

The  seventh  book  is  of  tragic  interest.  One  man  looms 
large  in  it,  as  the  doomed  Hector  of  a  contest  in  which  no 
one  can  stand  before  the  prowess  of  mighty  Achilles.  Ver- 
cin-get'o-rix  is  this  hero's  name.  He  becomes  the  head  of  a 
last,  the  greatest,  confederate  revolt  of  Gaul  against  Rome. 
He  was  a  young  Arvernian,  (Auvergne,)  son  of  a  man  as  to 
whom  Caesar,  in  language  curiously  applicable  to  his  own 
impending  fate,  says,  "  Having  held  the  supremacy  of  entire 
Gaul,  he  had  been  put  to  death  by  his  fellow-citizens  for 
this  reason,  because  he  aimed  at  sovereign  power." 

This  able  and  gallant  chieftain  thought  that  Caesar's  neces- 
sities in  Rome — the  city  was  at  this  moment  the  scene  of 
civil  broils — ^woiild  keep  him  there,  and  that  now  was  the 
one  chance  to  strike  for  his  own  oppressed  country.  He  or- 
ganizes the  most  formidable  combination  hostile  to  Ceesar 
that  has  yet  confronted  that  conqueror  in  Gaul. 

Caesar,  as  usual,  gets  the  start.  He  begins  his  campaign 
in  midwinter.  Clearing  his  way  through  snow  six  feet  deep, 
"  with  infinite  labor  to  his  soldiers,"  as,  with  a  touch  of  almost 
sympathetic  appreciation  rare  for  him,  he  remarks,  he  reaches 
the  country  of  the  Arverni,  the  people  of  Vercingetorix  him- 
self. (Cresar  believes  in  taking  the  bull  by  the  horn.)  This 
proceeding  has  the  desired  effect.  It  brings  Vercingetorix 
home. 

Now,  with  Vercingetorix  at  home  for  a  space,  Cassar  can 
execute  one  of  his  rapid  movements.  With  marches  not  in- 
termitted day  or  night,  he  goes  through  the  ^Eduan  territory 
into  the  country  of  the  Lingones,  where  two  legions  are  win- 
tering. If  his  trusty  friends,  the  yEduans — Caesar  himself 
says  this — should  be  devising  any  thing  to  his  own  disadvan- 
tage, it  would  be  well  to  forestall  their  plans!  He  sends  out 
a  mustering  summons  to  the  rest  of  his  lesions.  The  Ar- 


i  Si 


verni  meantime  are  fully  occupied  with  attention  to  the  Ro- 
man cavalry  raids  going  on  in  their  own  country  from  the  force 
left  behind.  Before  the  Arverni,  thus  occupied,  hear  a  whis- 
per of  what  he  is  doing,  he  has  his  whole  army  safely  com- 
pacted. Vercingetorix,  when  he  does  learn  of  Csesar's  pro- 
ceedings, prepares  to  attack  a  town  of  the  Boi'i,  lately  made 
tributary  by  Caesar  to  the  ^duans.  This  greatly  perplexes 
Csesar.  But  he  feels  that  at  every  risk  he  must  take  care  of 
his  friends,  or  he  may  come  to  have  no  friends  to  be  taken 
care  of  —  and  in  turn  to  take  care  of  him.  So  he  marches  to 
the  Boii. 

On  the  way  he  takes  two  towns,  sacking  one  of  them  and 
giving  the  booty  to  his  soldiers.  A  third  town  surrenders 
itself  to  Csesar.  Vercingetorix  now  gets  the  confederates  to 
adopt  the  policy  of  wasting  their  own  country  so  as  to  starve 
the  Romans  out.  One  city,  proud  of  itself,  and  strong  by 
natural  situation,  is  excepted  —  against  the  remonstrance  of 
Vercingetorix,  who,  howeve'r,  finally  concedes  the  point. 
The  hope  of  the  confederates  is  that  this  city  can  make 
good  its  own  defense  against  the  Romans. 

The  Romans  are  reduced  to  extremity  for  want  of  pro- 
visions. The  Boii  are  poor  and  the  ^Eduans  are  lukewarm. 
For  several  days  the  soldiers  are  without  grain  ;  but  they 
do  not  once  murmur.  So  the  siege  of  the  one  spared  con- 
federate town  goes  on.  Vercingetorix,  as  he  finds  oppor- 
tunity, creates  diversions  in  relief  of  the  besieged.  But  dis- 
affection toward  him  is  bred  among  the  allied  forces.  Ac- 
cused of  treason,  he  makes  a  successful  defense  of  himself. 
'I  want  nothing,'  said  he,  'from  Caesar  through  treachery,  I, 
who  can  gain  from  Csesar  all  I  desire  by  victory.'  With  fine 
dramatic  effect,  he  produces  a  number  of  starved  fellows  — 
who,  Csesar  says,  were  mere  camp-followers  of  the  Romans, 
captured  when  foraging  —  and  makes  these  do  for  specimens 
of  Caesar's  legionary  soldiers.  '  Such,'  says  Vercingetorix, 
'is  the  condition  to  which  the  Romans  are  now  reduced. 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in   English. 


This  is  what  traitor  Vercingetorix  has  effected  for  you.' 
The  whole  tumultuary  assembly  clash  their  arms  in  applause, 
and  cry,  '  Long  live  Vercingetorix ! '  Do  not  our  readers 
recognize  here  something  characteristic  of  that  modern 
French  nation  which,  with  much  mixture  of  blood,  has  since 
inherited  the  ancient  Gauls  ? 

Crcsar  praises,  too,  a  remarkable  ingenuity  of  defense  ex 
habited  by  the  enemj — which  reminds  one  that  modern 
French  inventiveness  can  boast  a  long  descent.  But  noth- 
ing availed  against  the  resolute  persistence  of  the  Romans. 
Avaricum  is  doomed.  Csesar  chooses  the  moment  of  a  vio- 
lent tempest  to  storm  the  walls.  There  followed  a  frightful 
massacre.  His  soldiers,  Caesar  tells  us,  spared  no  class,  not 
the  old,  not  women,  and  not  children.  Of  forty  thousand, 
scarce  eight  hundred  escaped  to  reach  Vercingetorix  in 
safety.  These  mournful  refugees  Vercingetorix  arranged  to 
receive  in  silence  during  the  night,  not  in  a  body,  lest  the 
effect  should  be  too  much  for  the  nerves  of  his  army,  but  in 
separate  groups  severally  consigned  to  different  quarters  of 
his  ramp. 

The  behavior  of  this  general  in  adversity  excites  our 
admiration  and  our  sympathy.  He  calls  a  council,  before 
which  he  holds  a  high  language  of  consolation,  of  courage, 
and  of  hope.  His  bearing  sustains  the  spirit  of  his  country- 
men. They  remember  that  Vercingetorix  advised,  from  the 
first,  against  defending  Avaricum.  His  influence  is  rather 
strengthened  than  weakened  by  the  calamity. 

Caesar,  meantime,  feasted  and  refreshed  his  famished  men 
on  the  plenty  that  he  found  in  captured  Avaricum.  But  here 
he  had  new  trouble.  The  ^Eduans  are  at  odds  among  them- 
selves. Two  contending  factions  bring  the  state  to  the  very 
brink  of  civil  war.  One  of  these  factions  might  turn  to  Ver- 
cingetorix for  support.  Csesar  must  visit  the  yEduans.  Visit 
them  he  does,  and  bids  them  be  at  peace  among  themselves, 
help  him  in  the  present  war,  and  see  what  he  will  do  for 


Cfcsar.  183 

them  when  all  is  over.  This  said,  and  one  of  the  leaders  of 
faction  by  him  duly  pronounced  magistrate,  Caesar  returned 
to  the  war.  But  all  did  not  avail.  Caesar's  preferred  y£du- 
an  is  himself  disloyal  to  Caesar,  and  the  whole  ^Eduan  state 
goes  over  to  the  enemy.  One  wide  conflagration  of  revolt 
now  enwraps  almost  the  entire  region  of  Gaul. 

Various  vicissitudes  of  war  follow,  which  our  space  forbids 
us  to  describe  in  detail.  It  must  suffice  to  say  that  Caesar's 
siege  of  one  important  town  issues  in  defeat  and  disaster  to 
his  arms.  Through  the  defection  of  the  yEduans,  he  loses, 
too,  a  town  of  theirs,  in  which  he  had  accumulated  a  vast 
reserve  of  resources  for  the  war.  In  short,  the  situation  be- 
comes perilous  for  the  Romans. 

But,  at  this  point  in  our  narrative,  we  plan  an  agreeable 
change  for  our  readers.  We  are  going  to  let  the  German 
historian  of  Rome,  Theodor  Mommsen,  tell  you  the  story  of 
the  end.  You  will  like  to  have  a  specimen  of  the  large, 
luminous  way  in  which  this  hero-worshiping,  but  enlightened, 
historian  deals  with  his  subject.  Vercingetorix  has  thrown 
himself  with  his  whole  army  into  the  town  of  A-le'si-a.  He, 
however,  establishes  also  a  camp  outside.  Town  and  camp 
together,  with  works  extending  not  less  than  ten  miles, 
Caesar  resolves  to  invest.  Now  Mommsen: 

"Vercingetorix  had  been  prepared  for  a  struggle  under 
the  walls,  but  not  for  being  besieged  in  Alesia ;  in  that  point 
of  view  the  accumulated  stores,  considerable  as  they  were, 
were  yet  far  from  sufficient  for  his  army — which  was  said  to 
amount  to  80,000  infantry  and  15,000  cavalry — and  for  the 
numerous  inhabitants  of  the  town.  .  .  .  Vercingetorix  dis- 
missed his  whole  cavalry,  and  sent  at  the  same  time  to 
the  heads  of  the  nation  instructions  to  call  forth  all  their 
forces  and  lead  them  to  the  relief  of  Alesia.  .  .  .  But 
Cossar  made  up  his  mind  at  once  to  besiege  and  to  be 
besieged.  He  prepared  his  line  of  circumvallation  for 
defense  also  on  its  outer  side,  and  furnished  himself  with 


184  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

provisions  fora  longer  period.  The  days  passed;  they  had 
no  longer  a  boll  of  grain  in  the  fortress,  and  they  were  obliged 
to  drive  out  the  unhappy  inhabitants  of  the  town  to  perish 
miserably  between  the  intrenchments  of  the  Celts  and  of  the 
Romans,  pitilessly  rejected  by  both. 

"At  the  last  hour  there  appeared  behind  Caesar's  lines  the 
interminable  array  of  the  Celto-Belgic  relieving  army,  said 
to  amount  to  250,000  infantry  and  8,000  cavalry.  From  the 
Channel  to  the  Cevennes  the  insurgent  cantons  had  strained 
every  nerve  to  rescue  the  flower  of  their  patriots  and  the 
general  of  their  choice — the  Bellovaci  alone  had  answered 
that  they  were  disposed  to  fight  against  the  Romans,  but  not 
beyond  their  own  bounds.  The  first  assault,  which  the 
besieged  of  Alesia  and  the  relieving  troops  without  made  on 
the  Roman  double  line,  was  repulsed  ;  but  when,  after  a 
day's  rest,  it  was  repeated,  the  Celts  succeeded — at  a  spot 
where  the  line  of  circumvallation  ran  over  the  slope  of  a  hill 
and  could  be  assailed  from  the  height  above — in  filling  up 
the  trenches  and  hurling  the  defenders  down  from  the  ram- 
part. Then  Labienus,  sent  thither  by  Caesar,  collected  the 
nearest  cohorts,  and  threw  himself  with  four  legions  on  the 
foe.  Under  the  eyes  of  the  general,  who  himself  appeared 
at  the  most  dangerous  moment,  the  assailants  were  driven 
back  in  a  desperate  hand-to-hand  conflict,  and  the  squadrons 
of  cavalry  that  came  with  Caesar  taking  the  fugitives  in  the 
rear  completed  the  defeat. 

"  It  was  more  than  a  great  victory;  the  fate  of  Alesia,  and 
indeed  of  the  Celtic  nation,  was  thereby  irrevocably  decided. 
The  Celtic  army,  utterly  disheartened,  dispersed  at  once 
from  the  battle-field  and  went  home.  Vercingetorix  might 
perhaps  have  even  now  taken  to  flight,  or  at  least  have  saved 
himself  by  the  last  means  open  to  a  free  man  ;  he  did  not 
do  so,  but  declared  in  a  council  of  war  that,  since  he  had 
not  succeeded  in  breaking  off  the  alien  yoke,  he  was  ready  to 
give  himself  up  as  a  victim,  and  to  avert,  so  far  as  possible, 


Ctzsar.  1 85 

destruction  from  the  nation  by  bringing  it  on  his  own  head. 
This  was  done.  The  Celtic  officers  delivered  their  general — 
the  solemn  choice  of  the  whole  nation — to  the  enemy  of  their 
country  for  such  punishment  as  might  be  thought  fit. 
Mounted  on  his  steed,  and  in  full  armour,  the  king  of  the 
Arvernians  appeared  before  the  Roman  proconsul  and  rode 
round  his  tribunal ;  then  he  surrendered  his  horse  and  arms, 
and  sat  down  in  silence  on  the  steps  at  Ccesar's  feet.  Five 
years  afterward  he  was  led  in  triumph  through  the  streets  of 
the  Italian  capital,  and,  while  his  conqueror  was  offering  sol- 
emn thanks  to  the  gods  on  the  summit  of  the  Capitol,  Ver- 
cingetorix  was  beheaded  at  its  foot  as  guilty  of  high  treason 
against  the  Roman  nation.  ...  It  is  impossible  to  part 
from  the  noble  king  of  the  Arverni  without  a  feeling  of 
historical  and  human  sympathy  ;  but  it  is  characteristic  of 
the  Celtic  nation  that  its  greatest  man  was  after  all  merely 
a  knight." 

The  passage  we  have  condensed  from  Dr.  Mommsen's 
history  deals  with  a  subject  perhaps  the  most  striking  in 
Caesar's  Commentaries  ;  and  in  style  it  presents  the  historian 
at  his  best.  We  cannot  in  fairness  suffer  our  readers  to  sup- 
pose that  they  would  be  equally  entertained  and  instructed 
in  all  other  parts  of  Mommsen's  history  of  Rome. 

Mommsen  is  a  very  able  man,  and  he  is  a  very  learned 
specialist  in  Roman  history.  But  he  presents  a  curious  com- 
bination in  himself  of  sentimentalism  with  abstract  hardness 
of  heart.  He  is  genuinely  philosophical,  but  his  philosoph- 
ical generalizations  are  liable  to  be  qualified  by  both  these 
two  apparently  inconsistent  traits  in  his  character.  We  must 
not  pause  to  write  an  essay  on  Mommsen,  but  we  feel  bound 
to  advise  our  readers  of  the  powerful  bias  under  which  he 
constructs  his  history  of  Rome.  He  is  an  idolater  of  Csesar. 
Caesar-worship  dictates  the  point  of  view  from  which  he  sees 
nearly  every  thing  that  he  describes.  That  our  readers  may 
judge  for  themselves  how  far  we,  in  saying  this,  are  from 


1 86  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

exaggerating  the  fact,  we  show  them  Mommsen  in  the  act  of 
kneeling  to  burn  his  incense  at  Caesar's  shrine  : 

"  Of  such  a  personage  [Csesar]  our  conceptions  may  well 
vary  in  point  of  shallowness  or  depth,  but  they  cannot  be, 
strictly  speaking,  different;  to  every  not  utterly  perverted 
inquirer  the  grand  figure  has  exhibited  the  same  essential 
features,  and  yet  no  one  has  succeeded  in  reproducing  it  to 
the  life.  The  secret  lies  in  its  perfection." 

The  Cassarizing  spirit  of  Mommsen  is,  perhaps,  to  be  seen 
in  the  attempt  which  apparently  he  makes  to  have  it  appear 
that  the  ultimate  murder  of  Vercingetorix  was  somehow  a 
deed  done  for  good  reason,  and  in  accordance  with  just  law. 
For  "  high  treason  against  the  Roman  nation,"  is  a  form  of 
statement  that  seems  to  give  a  certain  color  of  justification 
to  what  was  in  fact  a  piece  of  the  purest  brutality  on  the 
part  of  Cassar.  Custom  sanctioned,  as  the  last  and  sharpest 
culmination  of  those  bacchanalia  of  savagery  and  cruelty 
which  go  under  the  name  of  the  Roman  Triumph,  the  killing 
of  captives  in  prison,  to  be  accomplished  at  the  moment  when 
the  conqueror  reached  the  summit  of  the  Capitol.  This  final 
taste  of  blood,  the  triumphing  general  might,  if  he  chose, 
forego.  Cassar  did,  in  fact,  forego  it  in  some  other  cases.  But 
princely  and  gallant  Vercingetorix,  who,  having  been  defeated 
in  the  self-sacrificing  attempt  to  vindicate  the  freedom  of  his 
country,  had,  in  his  defeat,  thrown  himself  upon  the  magna- 
nimity of  the  victor,  is  by  that  victor  abruptly  cast  into  chains, 
in  chains  kept  eating  his  high  heart  through  more  than  five 
long  dreary  years,  and  then,  after  an  interval  during  which  any 
but  a  cold-blooded  man's  resentment  might  have  found  time 
to  cool,  is  put  to  death  in  prison — as  "guilty  of  high  treason 
against  the  Roman  nation,"  forsooth  !  But  we  check  our- 
selves in  our  indignation  ;  and,  having  thus  simply  put  our 
readers  on  their  guard  against  such  idealizing  historians  as 
Dr.  Mommsen,  and  such  romancing  apologists  as  Mr.  Froude, 
pass  on  to  finish  our  task  with  Caesar's  Commentaries. 


C&sar.  187 

Napoleon  III.  wrote  a  life  of  Caesar  with  most  elaborate 
imperial  care,  and  published  it  at  most  lavish  imperial  ex- 
pense. The  hardly  disguised  object  of  that  work  was  to  set 
forth  the  parallel,  real  or  imaginary,  between  Julius  Caesar 
and  Bonaparte,  as  also  between  Julius  Caesar's  grand-nephew, 
Augustus  Csesar,  and  the  French  biographer  himself,  Napo- 
leon III.,  nephew  of  Bonaparte.  "Csesarism  "  is,  of  course, 
the  key-note  of  this  biography.  But  even  Napoleon  III.  is 
not  so  lunatic  an  admirer  of  Caesar  as  is  Mommsen.  Napo- 
leon admits  it  to  be,  for  the  sake  of  Caesar's  glory,  a  matter 
of  regret  that  his  noble  captive,  Vercingetorix,  was  not 
spared.  Or  shall  we  suspect  that  it  was  Celtic  sympathy  in 
Napoleon,  and  German  sympathy  in  Mommsen,  that  deter- 
mined respectively  their  sentiments  toward  Celtic  Ver- 
cingetorix ? 

It  is  related,  by  the  way,  that  Cassar's  chariot  was  broken, 
on  occasion  of  this  triumph  of  his  in  which  Vercingetorix 
was  slain.  After  that,  so  the  story  goes,  Caesar  never  took 
his  seat  in  a  chariot  without  repeating  three  times  a  certain 
form  of  words  to  act  as  a  charm  against  accident.  He  also 
performed,  in  deprecation  of  the  misfortunes  supposed  to  be 
visited  in  compensation  upon  the  too  prosperous  man,  a  sin- 
gular act  of  voluntary  humility.  He  ascended  the  long  flight 
of  steps  leading  up  to  the  temple  of  Capitoline  Jupiter  on 
his  bended  knees.  What  a  parallel  and  contrast  to  Luther's 
famous  ascent  of  the  Santa  Scala  !  And  Caesar  was  in  re- 
ligion a  skeptic  !  Would  our  readers  like  to  know  how  Dr. 
Mommsen,  alluding  to  such  superstitions  on  the  part  of 
Caesar,  guards  himself  against  seeming  at  all  to  degrade  the 
reputation  of  his  hero  for  perfect  sobriety  of  mind  ?  Why, 
"There  was  in  Caesar's  rationalism  [practical  good  sense]  a 
point  at  which  it  came  in  some  measure  into  contact  with 
mysticism  "  !  And  would  they  like  to  sec  how  Caesar's  licen- 
tiousness, persisted  in  to  the  last,  can  be  nearly  hidden  from 
sight  under  flowers  of  language,  by  an  idolizing  German 


1 88  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

historian  ?  "  Around  him,  as  around  all  those  whom  the  full 
lustre  of  woman's  love  has  dazzled  in  youth,  fainter  gleams 
of  it  continued  imperishably  to  linger"!  Would  they  like, 
further,  to  see  how  bald-headed,  grim-featured  Caesar's  weak 
vanity  about  his  personal  appearance  can  be  touched  into  an 
illusion  of  something  even  rather  winning  ?  "  He  retained  a 
certain  foppishness  in  his  outward  appearance,  or,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  a  pleasing  consciousness  of  his  own  manly 
beauty  "!  Caesar  had  a  commanding  presence,  but  his  "manly 
beauty  "  is,  so  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  learn,  strictly  an 
evolution  from  the  depths  of  the  rapt  German's  own  con- 
structive consciousness.  Byron's  ascription  of  infirmity  to 
Caesar  must  stand  for  substantial  truth  : 

With  but  one  weakest  weakness — vanity. 

The  foregoing  expressions  from  Mommsen  will  be  enough 
to  apprise  attentive  readers  of  the  care  with  which,  when  they 
study  this  really  great  writer's  history  of  Rome,  they  must 
calculate  for  the  historian's  personal  bias. 

The  latest  fashion  in  opinion,  whatever  that  may  chance  to 
be,  is  by  no  means,  because  it  is  the  latest,  necessarily  the 
right  one.  Our  readers  are  entitled  to  know  that  various 
vogues  in  opinion  have  prevailed,  from  one  period  to  another, 
as  to  the  true  character  of  Julius  Caesar.  The  current 
vogue  is  favorable  rather  than  adverse.  A  generation  or  two 
ago  the  case  was  otherwise.  With  a  single  further  quota- 
tion from  Dr.  Arnold,  of  Rugby,  to  show  more  fully  what 
it  was  the  fashion,  when  he  wrote,  to  think  about  Caesar, 
(Dr.  Arnold,  however,  was  not  a  man  to  follow  fashion  in 
thinking,  he  made  fashion  rather,)  we  leave  the  topic  to  our 
readers  to  make  up  each  one  his  own  mind  for  himself: 

"During  the  present  summer,  Caesar  had,  in  fact,  com- 
pleted the  conquest  of  Gaul,  by  defeat  of  the  formidable 
confederacy  organized  by  Vercingetorix  and  by  the  capture 
of  Alesia.  By  his  successive  victories  he  had  amassed  a 


Ccesar.  189 

treasure  which,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  effects  ascribed  to 
it,  must  have  been  enormous.  .  .  .  To  his  own  army  his 
liberalities  were  almost  unbounded,  while  his  camp  presented 
a  place  of  refuge  to  the  needy,  the  profligate,  the  debtors, 
and  even  the  criminals  who  found  it  convenient  to  retreat 
from  the  capital.  When  it  is  remembered  that  the  object  of 
all  this  profusion  was  the  enslaving  of  his  country,  and  that 
the  means  which  enabled  him  to  practice  it  were  derived 
from  the  unprovoked  pillage  of  the  towns  and  temples  of 
Gaul,  and  the  sale  of  those  unfortunate  barbarians  who  in 
the  course  of  his  unjust  wars  became  his  prisoners,  it  may 
be  justly  doubted  whether  the  life  of  any  individual  recorded 
in  history  was  ever  productive  of  a  greater  amount  of  hu- 
man misery,  or  has  been  marked  with  a  deeper  stain  of 
wickedness." 

"  Agedincum  "  for  Agendicum,  "  H?edui  "  for  ^Edui,  read- 
ers will  observe,  are  the  spellings  adopted  by  Mommsen. 
He  also  writes  "  Gaius  "  for  Caius  in  Caesar's  name.  "  Sulla  " 
for  Sylla,  "  Mithradates  "  for  Mithridates,  "  Sugambri  "  for 
Sicambri,  are  other  variations  of  his  from  the  common  orthog- 
raphy. These  changes  need  not  disturb  any  body.  They 
are  mostly  points  rather  of  taste  and  vogue  than  of  correct- 
ness and  scholarship.  However,  if,  in  such  things,  you  like 
to  be  abreast  of  the  progressive  van  in  scholarship,  follow 
Mommsen.  We,  for  our  part,  decide  to  be  moderate,  rather 
than  extreme.  We  adhere  chiefly  to  the  old  ways.  We 
shall  therefore  presently  r,ay  Virgil,  not  "Vergil."  "Celts," 
Mommsen  calls  the  Gauls.  This  is  an  ethnic,  rather  than 
a  geographic,  designation.  In  race  the  Gauls  and  the 
Irish  were  allied.  Celtic  blood  ran  in  the  veins  of  both 
peoples. 

This  little  digression,  of  which,  it  may  be,  some  more 
methodical  among  our  readers  have  been  silently  and  good- 
naturedly  impatient,  has  in  reality,  let  us  assure  them,  been 
not  inappropriate  here,  at  the  close  of  the  last  book  of 


190  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 

Caesar's  Commentaries.  For  this  seventh  book  is  in  strict- 
ness the  last  book  of  Caesar's  Commentaries.  Caesar  him- 
self did  not  write  the  eighth  book,  although  that  also  bears 
his  name. 

EIGHTH  BOOK. 

The  eighth  book  was  written  by  one  of  Caesar's  lieutenants, 
Aulus  Hirtius.  who  begins  with  a  rather  fulsomely  laudatory 
appreciation  of  his  master's  work,  and  an  almost  abject  depre- 
cation of  the  charge  against  himself  of  rashness  in  presuming 
to  complete  what  one  so  unapproachably  his  superior  in  talent 
had  commenced.  The  book  relates  in  very  good  imitation  of 
Caesar's  style — it  is  easy,  you  know,  to  make  an  egg  stand  on 
end  after  Columbus  has  shown  you  how — the  incidents  of 
that  last  Gallic  campaign  in  which  Caesar  cleared  off  all  the 
little  arrearages  of  his  task — to  leave  pacified  Gaul,  as  Mr. 
Froude  would  have  us  believe,  passionately  attached  to  the 
person  and  interests  of  her  conqueror. 

We  dismiss  this  book  with  a  single  extract  in  literal  trans- 
lation, luridly  illustrative  of  one  style  of  address  adopted  by 
Caesar  in  wooing  and  fixing  the  impulsive  affections  of  the 
conquered.  It  is  but  just  to  say  that  Caesar  had  also  his 
really  amiable  ways  of  attaching  his  subjects  to  himself.  He 
was  by  instinct,  as  well  as  by  judgment,  humane,  when  hu- 
manity would  serve  his  purposes.  Humanity  in  the  present 
case  he  thought  would  not  do. 

The  town  of  Ux-el-lo-du'num  had  been  taken  by  siege, 
after  obstinate  resistance  from  the  inhabitants.  The  capitu- 
lation was  finally  secured  by  a  piece  of  almost  fabulously 
vast  and  well-directed  military  engineering,  on  the  part  of 
the  Romans,  conducted  under  the  personal  supervision  of 
the  commander  himself.  The  subterranean  vein  outside  the 
walls,  that  supplied  the  town  with  water,  was  found  and  cut 
off.  The  towns-people  declared  it  was  the  gods  and  not  a 
man  that  had  accomplished  this.  Hirtius  thus  relates  what 
Caesar  did  after  the  capitulation  : 


Casar.  \  9 1 

Cresar,  being  convinced  that  his  lenity  was  known  to  all  men,  and 
being  under  no  fears  of  being  thought  to  act  severely  from  a  natural 
cruelty,  and  perceiving  that  there  would  be  no  end  to  his  troubles  if 
several  states  should  attempt  to  rebel  in  like  manner  and  in  different 
places,  resolved  to  deter  others  by  inflicting  an  exemplary  punishment 
on  these.  Accordingly  he  cut  off  the  hands  of  those  who  had  borne 
arms  against  him.  Their  lives  he  spared,  that  the  punishment  of  their 
rebellion  might  be  the  more  conspicuous. 

The  trustworthiness  of  Mr.  Froude  as  biographer  of  Caesar 
will  have  been  sufficiently  illustrated,  if  to  what  has  hereto- 
fore been  said  on  the  point  we  now  add  that,  though  he  of 
course  tells  the  story  of  this  siege  and  capture,  he  does  not 
even  once  mention  that  crowning  act  of  "  clemency  "  on  his 
hero's  part,  which  Hirtius  relates  with  a  preface,  in  its  adu- 
latory imputation  of  serene  confidence  to  Caesar,  so  full  of 
melancholy  historic  instruction. 

It  is  Caesar's  peculiar  distinction  that  he  not  only  made 
history,  but  wrote  the  history  that  he  made.  Perhaps  if 
humane  Pompey,  if  honorable  Lucullus,  had  left  behind 
them  commentaries  of  their  campaigns,  Caesar  then,  in  the 
comparison,  might  have  seemed  to  us  the  mild  conqueror 
that  he  seemed  to  himself.  Certainly  as  conqueror  in  the 
civil  war,  Caesar  shows  to  extraordinary  advantage  in  con- 
trast with  the  bloody  Marius  and  the  bloody  Sylla.  In  just 
discrimination,  however,  this  also  needs  to  be  said,  that  rea- 
sons for  proscription  and  political  murder  existed  to  Sylla 
and  to  Marius,  which  to  Julius  Caesar,  and  to  Caesar  Augus- 
tus after  him,  were  wanting.  When  these  two  Caesars  got 
the  power,  there  were  left  comparatively  few  enemies  or 
rivals  that  they  needed  to  fear!  The  state  had  been  chiefly 
stripped  of  its  greatest  men — except  such  of  those  greatest 
men  as  were  committed  to  the  winning  side. 

We  bring  to  abrupt  conclusion  this  exhaustless  and  fasci- 
nating subject,  by  gratifying  the  curiosity  which  we  know  our 
readers  must  have  felt,  to  know  something  of  the  business 
relations  that  subsisted  between  Caesar  and  his  soldiers. 


1 92  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

How  were  Caesar's  soldiers  paid  ?  Chiefly  with  great  ex- 
pectations— expectations,  however,  which  in  the  end  were 
not  disappointed.  It  was  by  no  means  a  case,  between 
Caesar  and  his  men,  of  romantic  purely  disinterested  mutual 
attachment  of  soldiers  to  their  chief  and  of  chief  to  his  sol- 
diers. General  and  men  were  all  of  them  soldiers  of  fortune 
together.  They  had  to  prosper,  if  they  prospered,  each  by 
means  of  the  other.  Caesar  depended  on  his  legionaries,  and 
his  legionaries  depended  on  Caesar.  Neither  party  could  get 
on  alone.  Caesar's  wars  were  mostly  personal  wars.  That 
is,  they  had  no  sanction  of  government.  Caesar  raised  le- 
gions, and  he  waged  war,  on  his  own  responsibility.  It  was 
freebootery  on  a  colossal  scale — winked  at  by  the  Roman 
government,  but  winked  at  not  without  many  a  qualm,  on  its 
part,  of  helpless  disgust  and  resentment.  Caesar's  soldiers  no 
doubt  knew  all  this  perfectly  well.  He  early  doubled  the 
regular  pay  of  his  men.  He  gave  them  booty  freely  from 
time  to  time.  Every  legionary  might  count  on  having,  for 
instance,  a  slave  from  among  the  prisoners  of  war,  to  be  his 
own  peculiar  property,  to  serve  his  wants,  to  suffer  his  hu- 
mors. Besides  this,  there  was  the  glittering  chance  always 
before  the  soldier's  eyes  of  some  more  or  less  indefinite  re- 
ward to  be  enjoyed  when  Caesar  should  come  to  his  final 
goal.  This  unquestionably  helps  explain  the  celebrated  in- 
cident of  Caesar's  dealing  with  his  mutinous  legions,  during 
the  civil  war.  Even  his  favored  and  favorite  tenth  came 
once  to  play  a  game  of  bluff  with  their  old  commander — they 
demanded  to  be  discharged,  and  sent  home.  'Entirely  rea- 
sonable request,'  said  Caesar,  easy  master  himself  of  the  game 
which  his  tenth  had  blunderingly  attempted  to  play — 'you 
shall  be  gratified.'  The  legion  were  confounded.  It  was  the 
very  last  thing  they  really  desired.  They  thought  he  could 
not  get  along  without  them.  Perhaps  he  could  not.  But 
certainly  they  could  not  get  along  without  him.  This  Caesar 
knew,  and,  with  splendid  mastery,  he  soon  reduced  the 


Ctzsar.  193 

mutineers  to  beg  for  reinstatement  in  his  army,  on  his  own 
terms.  Those  veterans  could  not  endure  that  raw  soldiers 
of  Caesar  should  march  with  their  commander  in  future  tri- 
umphs at  Rome,  while  they  themselves,  who  had  bought  dear 
that  right  in  a  hundred  battles,  should  lose  it,  and  lose  be- 
sides whatever  additional  prizes  they  might  hope  to  earn  by 
additional  victories  achieved  for  Caesar. 

The  soldiers  of  the  early  republic  served  without  pay. 
They  were  sure,  if  they  conquered,  of  a  fair  share  in  the 
spoil,  and  that  would  be  worth  to  them  far  more  than 
any  reasonable  wages.  Caesar's  soldiers,  even  at  their  double 
pay,  received,  what  seems  to  us  but  a  paltry  sum,  about 
thirty-seven  dollars  a  year,  for  their  service.  But  when 
Ccesar  came  to  triumph  at  Rome,  then  he  opened  his  strong 
box,  and  sowed  riches  with  both  hands  far  and  wide.  Remem- 
ber that  these  were  the  riches  of  plunder.  To  every  common 
soldier  of  his,  he  gave  what  was  equivalent  to  a  moderate 
fortune  for  one  in  his  condition  of  life,  nearly  a  thousand 
dollars  in  money.  The  centurions  each  received  twice  that 
amount.  The  prize  was  doubled  again  for  the  military  trib- 
unes. When  Cassar  dealt  with  his  officers,  mutinous  from 
fear  of  Ariovistus  and  the  Germans,  he  claimed,  in  address- 
ing them,  to  have  been  a  man  above  blame  on  the  score  of 
uprightness.  What  he  specifically  meant  no  doubt  was  that 
he  had  always  treated  his  soldiers  fairly  in  the  matter  of  pay 
and  of  booty.  There  was,  of  course,  no  generosity  in  his 
lavishing  money  on  his  soldiers.  The  wealth  of  the  world 
was  his  by  plunder.  He  could  not  possibly  use  it  all  him- 
self. The  simple  question  was,  how  should  he  dispose  of  his 
surplus  ? 

On  the  occasion  of  his  successive  triumphs,  he  showed 
something  of  the  same  genius  in  scattering  his  plunder  that  he 
had  shown  in  amassing  it.  He  spread  twenty-two  thousand 
tables,  and  feasted  the  universal  public  of  Rome.  He  gave 
every  poor  citizen  meat,  grain,  oil,  money,  and  remission  of 
9 


1 94  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

a  year's  rent.  He  made  an  artificial  lake  deep  enough  and 
•wide  enough  to  float  a  navy,  and  on  its  surface  exhibited  a 
sea-fight — not  a  sham-fight,  but  a  real  fight,  in  which  thou- 
sands of  Egyptians  and  thousands  of  Tyrians,  respectively, 
killed  each  other  for  the  delight  of  the  populace.  There 
were  murmurs  at  this  feature  of  Caesar's  displays — not,  how- 
ever, because  it  was  cruel,  but  because  it  was  wasteful !  One 
almost  incredible  account  says  that  the  whole  length  of  the 
street  through  which  Caesar's  triumphal  procession  passed 
was  covered  from  the  sun  with  awnings  of  silk. 

It  is  difficult  not  to  feel  with  De  Quincey  that  the  Roman 
Empire  founded  by  Caesar  was  less  a  form  of  civilization, 
than  a  magnificently  masked  essential  barbarism,  proceeding 
by  unperceived  degrees  to  disintegration — moral,  social,  po- 
litical— engendered  from  within. 

Let  us  redress  once  more  the  balance  of  praise  and  blame 
for  Caesar,  by  quoting  the  highly  rhetorical  sentence  of  De 
Quincey  on  his  relative  rank  in  greatness  among  the  ancients: 
"  Unquestionably,  for  comprehensive  talents,  the  Lucifer, 
the  Protagonist  of  all  antiquity." 


VII. 
CICERO'S    ORATIONS. 

CICERO'S  writings  form  what  has  been  finely  called  a  library 
of  reason  and  eloquence.  We  shall  hereafter  meet  this  al- 
ways welcome  literary  figure  again,  in  the  course  of  that  vol- 
ume to  follow  the  present,  which  treats  the  Latin  read  by  the 
student  in  college.  To  that  future  occasion  we  postpone  the 
biographical  and  critical  notice  which  it  seems  fitting  for  us 
somewhere  to  make  of  this  most  modern  of  the  ancients, 
this  most  cosmopolitan  of  Romans. 

The   amount  of  reading  in  Cicero's  orations  required  for 


Cicero's  Orations. 


J95 


entrance  at  college  is  somewhat  indeterminate.  That  is  to 
say,  different  colleges  have  different  standards  of  require- 
ment. Most  of  them,  we  believe,  ask  for  the  four  orations 
against  Catiline  and,  together  with  these,  two  or  three  other 
of  Cicero's  orations,  variously  chosen  by  various  authorities. 
What  we  give  our  readers  will  approximately  represent  the 
average  requirement. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  many  of  our  college  graduates 
gain  their  sole  impression  of  Cicero  as  orator  from  their 
reading  of  him  in  course  of  preparation  for  college.  To  the 
student  in  that  preparatory  stage  of  education,  naturally 
even  the  most  consummate  pieces  of  eloquence  can  be  but  so 
many  portions  of  dead  literature,  to  be  mastered  for  lame 
and  impotent  construing  by  him,  simply  as  his  open  sesame 
at  the  entrance-gate  of  college.  Our  readers  will,  some  of 
them  at  least,  through  experience  of  life  producing  maturity 
and  wisdom  of  judgment,  have  become  prepared  to  appre- 
ciate, better  than  boys  and  girls  at  school  can  do,  the  masterly 
art  with  which  Cicero  orders  his  narration,  his  argument,  his 
representations,  his  appeals.  Still,  the  conditions  of  eloquence 
change  so  much — with  change  of  time,  of  place,  of  race,  of  po- 
sition, of  civilization,  of  occasion — that  oratory  belonging,  like 
Cicero's,  to  an  order  of  things  remote  in  every  way  from 
that  in  which  we  live,  requires  a  large  amount  of  prepara- 
tion on  our  part  to  judge  it  justly  and  to  enjoy  it  to  the  full. 
Readers  will  be  liable  to  disappointment  in  making  first  ac- 
quaintance here  with  oratory  of  so  ancient,  so  constant,  and 
so  universal  fame.  But  we  had  better,  all  of  us,  presume 
with  much  confidence  that  Cicero  deserves  his  established  and 
august  reputation.  If  he  fails  to  answer  our  ideal,  perhaps 
our  ideal,  rather  than  Cicero,  is  at  fault.  Or  perhaps  we 
have  failed  to  study  Cicero,  and  Cicero's  occasion,  deeply 
enough.  Imagine  somebody,  two  thousand  years  hence, 
four  thousand  miles  away,  spelling  out,  in  a  language  not 
only  foreign  but  long  dead,  an  American  speech  of  to-day, 


196  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

delivered  on  some  occasion  as  obsolete  as  is  now  the  conspir- 
acy of  Catiline.  What  speech  of  what  orator  would  you 
select  as  likely  to  interest  that  supposed  reader,  more  than 
Cicero's  invectives  against  Catiline  interest  you — as  likely  to 
satisfy  that  reader's  ideal  of  eloquence  better  than  your  ideal 
of  eloquence  is  satisfied  in  Cicero? 

Of  Cicero  as  an  orator  it  may  summarily  be  said  that  he 
was,  first  of  all,  and  always,  as  clear  as  a  sunbeam — this, 
both  as  to  his  general  order  in  the  speech,  and  as  to  the 
structure  of  the  particular  sentence — full  in  matter,  copious, 
while  pure,  in  diction,  harmonious  in  rhythm,  in  temper  by 
preference  urbane,  though  capable  of  the  utmost  truculence, 
unsurpassed  in  skill  of  self-adjustment  to  the  demands  of 
his  occasion.  When,  in  the  next  succeeding  volume  of  the 
present  series,  we  come  to  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes, 
we  may  seek  to  set  the  Roman's  style  in  a  still  stronger  light, 
by  comparing  and  contrasting  it  with  the  style  of  the  Greek. 
The  English  Burke,  we  believe,  consciously  modeled  his 
own  oratory  on  the  oratory  of  Cicero. 

Notwithstanding  what  we  have  said  of  the  inevitable  tend- 
ency to  obsolescence  in  all  oratory,  it  yet  remains  true — 
such  is  the  perfection  of  Cicero's  oratorical  and  literary  art 
— that  the  reader  will  find  singularly  little  narrative  explana- 
tion necessary  that  is  not  furnished  within  the  productions 
themselves  which  we  are  here  about  to  present.  This,  how- 
ever, is  less  the  case  with  the  last  oration  to  follow,  than  with 
the  others. 

We  first  bring  forward  (in  specimen  only,  for  our  bounds 
are  inelastic)  that  celebrated  oration  of  Cicero's,  in  which 
he  lauds  the  character  of  Caesar.  There  is  here  a  generous 
effusion  of  eulogy,  such  as  to  one  not  familiar  with  the  amen- 
ity, the  affluence,  the  Italian  enthusiasm,  of  the  speaker's 
oratorical  temperament,  might  well  seem  insincere  and  ful- 
some. But  there  are  several  considerations  necessary  to  be 
kept  in  mind  in  order  to  the  forming  of  a  just  judgment  on 


Cicero's  Orations.  197 


the  real  quality  of  this  high-wrought  panegeric  of  Cicero's  on 
Caesar. 

You  must  remember  that  Caesar  was  now  undisputed  sole 
master  of  the  world.  You  must  remember  that  he  had,  since 
his  victory  in  the  civil  war,  exhibited  extraordinary  modera- 
tion in  the  use  of  boundless  power.  You  must  remember, 
that,  to  the  strained  anxiety  of  the  Roman  public  dreading 
to  see  renewed  the  frightful  scenes  of  the  times  of  Marius 
and  of  Sylla,  this  self-control  and  mildness  on  Caesar's  part 
had  brought  a  sense  of  relief  whose  reaction  made  men  al- 
most mad  with  joy.  You  must  remember  that  Cicero,  besides 
consciously  speaking  in  the  presence  of  a  diffused  sentiment 
like  this,  himself  shared  the  sentiment  to  a  degree  commen- 
surate with  the  genial  warmth  of  his  own  exceptionally 
vivid  sympathies.  You  must  remember  that  a  capital  in- 
stance of  Caesar's  clemency  had,  under  striking,  almost  the- 
atrical, circumstances,  just  occurred  in  the  senate.  You 
must  remember  that  Cicero's  personal  affections  were  in  that 
instance  ardently  engaged.  And  finally,  perhaps  chiefly, 
you  must  remember  that  Cicero  praised  not  simply  the  vir- 
tues which  he  saw  in  Caesar,  but  the  virtues  which,  for  his 
own  sake  and  for  the  sake  of  mankind,  he  wished  to  see,  and 
which,  therefore,  he  would  help  create  or  confirm  in  Caesar, 
by  thus  magnanimously  praising  them.  The  extravagance 
of  Cicero's  rhetoric  will  surely  seem  somewhat  modified  in 
view  of  considerations  such  as  these,  however  yet  it  may 
pass  the  bounds  of  decorum  prescribed  by  our  colder  north- 
ern taste  and  judgment.  Cicero  is  to  be  thought  of  as  an 
Italian,  rather  than  as  a  typical  Roman.  His  style  in  gen- 
eral is  Asiatic,  by  an  exuberance  that  true  Roman  austerity 
would  have  chastised  and  corrected. 

The  oration  for  Marcus  Marcellus  had  this  occasion. 
Marcellus  had  fought  for  Pompey  and  against  Ccesar  in  the 
civil  war.  After  the  decisive  defeat  of  Pharsalia  he  with- 
drew to  Myt'i-le'ne,  and  there  devoted  himself  to  rhetoric 


198  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

and  philosophy.  Marcellus's  cousin  one  day  in  full  senate 
prostrated  himself  before  Caesar  to  implore  the  dictator's 
pardon  for  his  kinsman.  The  whole  body  of  the  senators 
did  likewise.  Csesar  yielded  and  pardoned  the  exile.  Pope 
had  this  occasion  in  mind  when  he  wrote  his  couplet, 

And  more  true  joy  Marcellus  exiled  feels, 
Than  Ciesar  with  a  senate  at  his  heels. 

Cicero,  as  a  life-long  friend  of  the  pardoned  man,  instantly 
responded  in  a  speech  which,  on  being  subsequently  written 
out,  took  the  form  in  which  it  here  appears. 

Literary  and  historical  critics  have  found  much,  in  litera- 
ture, profane  as  well  as  sacred,  to  assail  with  their  weapons 
of  skepticism,  and  this  oration  has  not  escaped  their  serious 
challenge.  Some  very  high  authorities  have  doubted  wheth- 
er it  ever  was  either  spoken  or  written  by  Cicero.  But  the 
best  way  for  our  readers  is  to  go  with  the  majority — and  be- 
lieve that  they  are  now  enjoying  a  genuine,  and  a  very  fine, 
specimen  of  Cicero's  rhetoric. 

It  should  have  been  added  that,  besides  being  a  Pompeian, 
Marcellus  had  further  offended  Caesar  by  once  proposing  in  the 
senate  a  decree  to  deprive  him  of  his  command.  The  clem- 
ency that  Cicero  celebrates  is  thus  seen  to  be  really  remark- 
able. Toward  his  countrymen,  Caesar  was  certainly  a  very 
magnanimous  conqueror.  But  here  is  Cicero's 

ORATION  FOR  MARCUS  MARCELLUS. 

This  clay,  O  conscript  fathers  [literally,  "enrolled  or  elect  fathers," 
the  customary  style  of  address  to  the  Roman  senate,]  has  brought  with 
it  an  end  to  the  long  silence  in  which  I  have  of  late  indulged  ;  not  out 
of  any  fear,  but  partly  from  sorrow,  pari'y  from  modesty  ;  and  at  the 
same  time  it  has  revived  in  me  my  ancient  habit  of  saying  what  my 
wishes  and  opinions  are.  For  I  cannot  by  any  means  pass  over  in  si- 
lence such  great  humanity,  such  unprecedented  and  unheard-of  clem- 
ency, such  moderation  in  the  exercise  of  supreme  and  universal  power, 
such  incredible  and  almost  godlike  wisdom.  For  now  that  Marcus 
Marcellus,  O  conscript  fathers,  has  been  restored  to  you  and  the  repub- 


Cicero's  Orations.  199 


lie,  I  think  that  not  only  his  voice  and  authority  are  preserved  and  re- 
stored to  you  and  to  the  republic,  but  my  own  also. 

For  I  was  concerned,  O  conscript  fathers,  and  most  exceedingly 
grieved,  when  I  saw  such  a  man  as  he  is,  who  had  espoused  the  same 
cause  which  I  myself  had,  not  enjoying  the  same  good  fortune  as  my- 
self; nor  was  I  able  to  persuade  myself  to  think  it  right  or  fair  that  I 
should  be  going  on  in  my  usual  routine,  while  that  rival  and  imitator  of 
my  zeal  and  labors,  who  had  been  a  companion  and  comrade  of  mine 
throughout,  was  separated  from  me.  Therefore,  you,  O  Caius  Caesar, 
have  re-opened  to  me  my  former  habits  of  life,  which  were  closed  up, 
and  you  have  raised,  as  it  were,  a  standard  to  all  these  men,  as  a  sort 
of  token  to  lead  them  to  entertain  hopes  of  the  general  welfare  of  the 
republic.  For  it  was  seen  by  me  before  in  many  instances,  and  espe- 
cially in  my  own,  and  now  it  is  clearly  understood  by  every  body,  since 
you  have  granted  Marcus  Marcellus  to  the  senate  and  people  of  Rome, 
in  spite  of  your  recollection  of  all  the  injuries  you  have  received  at  his 
hands,  that  you  prefer  the  authority  of  this  order  and  the  dignity  of  the 
republic  to  the  indulgence  of  your  own  resentment  or  your  own  sus- 
picions. 

He,  indeed,  has  this  day  reaped  the  greatest  possible  reward  for  the 
virtuous  tenor  of  his  previous  life  ;  in  the  great  unanimity  of  the  senate  in 
his  favor,  and  also  in  your  own  most  dignified  and  important  opinion  of 
him.  And  from  this  you,  in  truth,  must  perceive  what  great  credit  there 
is  in  conferring  a  kindness,  when  there  is  such  glory  to  be  got  even  by 
receiving  one.  And  he,  too,  is  fortunate  whose  safety  is  now  the  cause 
of  scarcely  less  joy  to  all  other  men  than  it  will  be  to  himself  when  he 
is  informed  of  it.  And  this  honor  has  deservedly  and  most  rightfully 
fallen  to  his  lot.  For  who  is  superior  to  him  either  in  nobleness  of  birth, 
or  in  honesty,  or  in  zeal  for  virtuous  studies,  or  in  purity  of  life,  or  in 
any  description  whatever  of  excellence  ? 

No  one  is  blessed  with  such  a  stream  of  genius,  no  one  is  endowed 
with  such  vigor  and  richness  of  eloquence,  either  as  a  speaker  or  as  a 
writer,  as  to  be  able,  I  will  not  say  to  extol,  but  even,  O  Caius  Csesar, 
plainly  to  relate,  all  your  achievements.  Nevertheless,  I  assert,  and  with 
your  leave  I  maintain,  that  in  all  of  them  you  never  gained  greater  and 
truer  glory  than  you  have  acquired  this  day.  I  am  accustomed  often  to 
keep  this  idea  before  my  eyes,  and  often  to  affirm  in  frequent  conversa- 
tions, that  all  the  exploits  of  our  own  generals,  all  those  of  foreign  na- 
tions and  of  most  powerful  states,  all  the  mighty  deeds  of  the  most  il- 
lustrious monarchs,  can  be  compared  with  yours  neither  in  the  magni- 
tude of  your  wars,  nor  in  the  number  of  your  battles,  nor  in  the  variety 


200  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

of  countries  which  you  have  conquered,  nor  in  the  rapidity  of  your  con- 
quests, nor  in  the  great  difference  of  character  with  which  your  wars  have 
been  marked ;  and  that  those  countries  the  most  remote  from  each  other 
could  not  be  traveled  over  more  rapidly  by  any  one  in  a  jeurney,  than 
they  have  been  visited  by  your,  I  will  not  say  journeys  but,  victories. 

And  if  I  were  not  to  admit  that  those  actions  are  so  great  that  scarcely 
any  man's  mind  or  comprehension  is  capable  of  doing  justice  to  them,  I 
should  be  very  senseless.  But  there  are  other  actions  greater  than 
those.  For  some  people  are  in  the  habit  of  disparaging  military  glory, 
and  of  denying  the  whole  of  it  to  the  generals,  and  of  giving  the  multi- 
tude a  share  of  it  also,  so  that  it  may  not  be  the  peculiar  property  of  the 
commanders.  And,  no  doubt,  in  the  affairs  of  war,  the  valor  of  the 
troops,  the  advantages  of  situation,  the  assistance  of  allies,  fleets,  and  sup- 
plies, have  great  influence ;  and  a  most  important  share  in  all  such 
transactions,  Fortune  claims  for  herself,  as  of  her  right  ;  and  whatever 
has  been  done  successfully  she  considers  almost  entirely  as  her  own 
work. 

But  in  this  glory,  O  Caius  Csesar,  which  you  have  just  earned,  you 
have  no  partner.  The  whole  of  this,  however  great  this  may  be — and 
surely  it  is  as  great  as  possible, — the  whole  of  it,  I  say,  is  your  own. 
The  centurion  can  claim  for  himself  no  share  of  that  praise,  neither  can 
the  prefect,  nor  the  battalion,  nor  the  squadron.  Nay,  even  that  very 
mistress  of  all  human  affairs,  Fortune  herself,  cannot  thrust  herself  into 
any  participation  in  that  glory  ;  she  yields  to  you  ;  she  confesses  that  it 
is  all  your  own,  your  peculiar  private  desert.  For  rashness  is  never 
united  with  wisdom,  nor  is  chance  ever  admitted  to  regulate  affairs  con- 
ducted with  prudence. 

You  have  subdued  nations,  savage  in  their  barbarism,  countless  in 
their  numbers,  boundless,  if  we  regard  the  extent  of  country  peopled  by 
them,  and  rich  in  every  kind  of  resource  ;  but  still  you  were  only  con- 
quering things,  the  nature  and  condition  of  which  was  such  that  they 
could  be  overcome  by  force.  For  there  is  no  strength  so  great  that  it 
cannot  be  weakened  and  broken  by  arms  and  violence.  But  to  subdue 
one's  inclinations,  to  master  one's  angry  feelings,  to  be  moderate  in  the 
hour  of  victory,  to  not  merely  raise  from  the  ground  a  prostrate  adver- 
sary, eminent  for  noble  birth,  for  genius,  and  for  virtue,  but  even  to  in- 
crease his  previous  dignity — they  are  actions  of  such  a  nature,  that  the 
man  who  does  them,  I  do  not  compare  to  the  most  illustrious  man,  but 
I  consider  equal  to  God. 

Therefore,  O  Caius  Caesar,  those  military  glories  of  yours  will  be  cel- 
ebrated not  only  in  our  own  literature  and  language,  but  in  those  of 


Cicero's  Orations.  201 


almost  all  nations;  nor  is  there  any  age  which  will  ever  be  silent  about 
your  praises.  But  still,  deeds  of  that  sort,  somehow  or  other,  even  when 
they  are  read,  appear  to  be  overwhelmed  with  the  cries  of  the  soldiers 
and  the  sound  of  the  trumpets.  But  when  we  hear  or  read  of  any  thing 
which  has  been  done  with  clemency,  with  humanity,  with  justice,  with 
moderation,  and  with  wisdom,  especially  in  a  time  of  anger,  which  is 
very  adverse  to  prudence,  and  in  the  hour  of  victor)',  which  is  nat- 
urally insolent  and  haughty,  with  what  ardor  are  we  then  inflamed, 
(even  if  the  actions  are  not  such  as  have  really  been  performed,  but  are 
only  fabulous,)  so  as  often  to  love  those  whom  we  have  never  seen  ! 
But  as  for  you,  whom  we  behold  present  among  us,  whose  mind,  and 
feelings,  and  countenance  we  at  this  moment  see  to  be  such,  that  you 
wish  t«  preserve  every  thing  which  the  fortune  of  war  has  left  to  the  re- 
public, O  with  what  praises  must  we  extol  you  ?  with  what  zeal  must 
we  follow  you  ?  with  what  affection  must  we  devote  ourselves  to  you  ? 
The  very  walls,  I  declare,  the  very  walls  of  this  senate-house  appear  to 
me  eager  to  return  you  thanks  ;  because,  in  a  short  time,  you  will  have 
restored  their  ancient  authority  to  this  venerable  abode  of  themselves 
and  of  their  ancestors. 

Now  no  one  can  read  intelligently  the  foregoing  repre- 
sentative extract,  about  one  quarter  of  the  whole,  from  this 
senatorial  speech  of  Cicero,  without  perceiving  that,  both  in 
the  lines  and  between  the  lines  of  the  speech,  there  unmis- 
takably betrays  itself  the  spirit  of  the  patriot  consenting  to 
speak,  nay,  generously  rejoicing  to  speak,  in  the  words  of  the 
personal  encomiast.  The  orator  hoped  well  concerning  the 
republic.  Cicero's  letters,  written  about  the  date  of  this 
speech,  make  it  probable  that  the  trust  was  not  yet  extinct 
in  his  breast  that  Caesar  was  going  to  restore  the  ancient 
freedom  and  constitution.  Csesar  should  be  helped  on  to  any 
such  goal  of  his  thought  by  every  incitement  of  appreciation 
shown  him  beforehand.  The  praise,  then,  was  less  mere  adu- 
lation, than  pregnant  wisdom  of  oratory  and  statesmanship. 
Cicero  was  not  playing  a  part,  the  part  of  a  flatterer.  He 
really  hoped,  in  the  magnanimous  exaltation  of  the  moment, 
that  what  he  said  in  hyperbole  was  substantially  true,  or  at 

least  might  be  helped  to  become   true  if  he   should  unseal 
9* 


202  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

those  eloquent  lips  of  his  to  say  it.  The  forms  of  senatorial 
comity  permitted  much  apparent  exaggeration  of  phrase.  He 
did  not  stint  language.  He  poured  it  out  abundantly  and 
made  his  speech — which,  perhaps,  after  all,  our  readers,  not- 
withstanding what  their  author  here  says  in  explanation,  will 
feel  to  have  been  inexcusably  laudatory.  Holding  the 
opinion  that  we  do,  we  shall  say  no  more  to  press  the  opin- 
ion on  our  readers.  Let  each  think  what  he  will — but  think 
wisely,  with  exercise  of  that  historic  sense,  of  that  diplomatic 
sense,  which  leads  to  just  consideration  of  the  bearing  and 
relation  of  things. 

One  perceives  a  startling  contrast  in  tone,  a  contrast 
startling,  but  appropriate,  as  one  follows  up  this  gracious, 
suave,  complaisant  utterance  of  Cicero's,  with  two  of  his 
speeches  against  Catiline.  These  speeches  had  a  very  differ- 
ent occasion,  and  were  made  under  widely  different  circum- 
stances from  those  of  the  foregoing.  There  was  a  wide-spread 
dangerous  political  movement  on  foot  at  Rome,  desperate 
enough  in  its  aim  and  in  its  measures,  as  also  in  the  character 
of  the  men  concerned  in  it,  to  be  justly  branded  a  conspir- 
acy. This  was  before,  but  not  many  years  before,  Caesar 
went  to  Gaul.  Of  this  conspiracy,  the  leading  spirit  was 
Lucius  Catilina,  commonly  now  among  us  called  Catiline. 
Catiline  was  a  member  of  the  senate,  and  many  of  his  fellow- 
conspirators  belonged  to  the  same  body.  He  was  bankrupt 
in  fortune  and  in  name — by  general  agreement  an  abandoned 
man.  But  he  was  as  able  as  he  was  unscrupulous. 

Catiline's  high  birth  entitled  him  to  hopes  of  political  pre- 
ferment. He  had  been  candidate  against  Cicero  for  the 
consulship.  Defeated,  he  was  not  disheartened.  Another 
year  he  tried  his  fortune  again,  playing  his  game  with  loaded 
dice  ;  for  he  practiced  bribery  on  a  scale  so  vast  that  Cicero 
proposed  a  new  law  against  the  corruption.  Catiline  felt 
himself  aimed  at,  and  plotted  against  Cicero's  life.  Cicero 
in  open  senate  charged  on  him  this  design,  and  the  consuls 


Cicero's  Orations. 


203 


to  meet  the  emergency  were  by  decree  invested  with  dicta- 
torial powers.  Catiline's  hopes  of  election,  and  his  plot  to 
assassinate  Cicero,  were  thwarted  together. 

Desperate  now,  he  rushed  into  courses  the  most  extreme. 
A  general  rising  was  to  be  instigated  throughout  Italy, 
Rome  was  to  be  fired  in  numerous  places  at  once,  the  senate 
were  all  to  be  put  to  death,  likewise  the  personal  and  polit- 
ical enemies  of  the  conspirators.  Pompey's  sons,  however, 


POMPEY   THE   GREAT. 

were  to  be  kept  alive,  as  hostages  to  secure  the  proper  be- 
havior of  Pompey,  who  in  command  of  an  army  in  the  East 
held  the  really  effective  power  in  the  state. 

Of  all  this  stupendous  iniquity,  plotted  in  darkness,  Cicero 
was  fortunate  enough  and  skillful  enough  to  learn,  from  one 
of  the  conspirators  gained  over  through  the  arts  of  that  con- 
spirator's mistress.  Cicero  managed  the  affair  with  perfect 
adroitness.  Things  proceeded  until  he  summoned  a  meeting 


204  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

of  the  senate  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter  at  the  foot  of  the 
Palatine  hill,  (some  say  on  the  Capitoline  hill,)  a  place  of 
assembling  resorted  to  only  under  circumstances  of  the  most 
threatening  danger.  Catiline  was  brazen  enough  to  attend 
himself  this  session  of  the  senate.  His  entrance  created  a 
sensation,  and  that  sensation  Cicero  heightened  by  break- 
ing into  the  following  strain  of  personal  invective,  taken 
from  what  is  known  as  the  first  oration  against  Catiline. 
There  are  four  such  orations  in  all.  Of  these  the  first  and 
last  were  delivered  in  the  senate,  the  second  and  third  in  the 
forum  to  the  popular  assembly  of  citizens.  The  style,  or 
rather  the  course  of  treatment  adopted,  differs  according  to 
the  character  of  the  audience  addressed,  and  according  to 
the  object  sought  to  be  accomplished,  by  the  orator.  Here, 
then,  is  a  condensation  of  the 

FIRST  ORATION  AGAINST  CATILINE. 

WHEN,  O  Catiline,  do  you  mean  to  cease  abusing  our  patience  ? 
How  long  is  that  madness  of  yours  still  to  mock  us  ?  When  is  there  to 
be  an  end  of  that  unbridled  audacity  of  yours,  swaggering  about  as  it 
does  now?  Do  not  the  night  guards  placed  on  the  Palatine  Hill -do 
not  the  watches  posted  throughout  the  city — does  not  the  alarm  of  the 
people,  and  the  union  of  all  good  men — does  not  the  precaution  taken  of 
assembling  the  senate  in  this  most  defensible  place — do  not  the  looks 
and  countenances  of  this  venerable  body  here  present,  have  any  effect 
upon  you  ?  Do  you  not  feel  that  your  plans  are  detected  ?  Do  you  not 
see  that  your  conspiracy  is  already  arrested  and  rendered  powerless  by 
the  knowledge  which  every  one  here  possesses  of  it  ?  What  is  there  that 
you  did  last  night,  what  the  night  before — where  is  it  that  you  were — 
who  was  there  that  you  summoned  to  meet  you — what  design  was  there 
which  was  adopted  by  you,  with  which  you  think  that  any  one  of  us  is 
unacquainted  ? 

Shame  on  the  age  and  on  its  principles  !  The  senate  is  aware  of  these 
things  ;  the  consul  sees  them  ;  and  yet  this  man  lives.  Lives  !  ay,  he 
comes  even  into  the  senate.  He  takes  a  part  in  the  public  delibera- 
tions ;  he  is  watching  and  marking  down  and  checking  off  for  slaughter 
every  individual  among  us.  And  we,  gallant  men  that  we  are,  think 
that  we  are  doing  our  duty  to  the  republic  if  we  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
his  frensied  attacks. 


Cicero's  Orations.  205 


You  ought,  O  Catiline, long  ago  to  have  been  led  to  execution  by 
command  of  the  consul.  That  destruction  which  you  have  been  long 
plotting  against  us  ought  to  have  already  fallen  on  your  own  head. 

What  ?  Did  not  that  most  illustrious  man,  Publius  Scipio,  the  Ponti- 
fex  Maximus,  in  his  capacity  of  a  private  citizen,  put  to  death  Tiberius 
Gracchus,  though  but  slightly  undermining  the  constitution  ?  And  shall 
we,  who  are  the  consuls,  tolerate  Catiline,  openly  desirous  to  destroy  the 
whole  world  with  fire  and  slaughter?  For  I  pass  over  older  instances, 
such  as  how  Caius  Servilius  A-ha'la  with  his  own  hand  slew  Spurius 
Mselius  when  plotting  a  revolution  in  the  state.  There  was — there  was 
once  such  virtue  in  this  republic,  that  brave  men  would  repress  mis- 
chievous citizens  with  severer  chastisement  than  the  most  bitter  enemy. 
For  we  have  a  resolution  of  the  senate,  a  formidable  and  authoritative 
decree  against  you,  O  Catiline  ;  the  wisdom  of  the  republic  is  not  at 
fault,  nor  the  dignity  of  this  senatorial  body.  We,  we  alone — I  say  it 
openly — we,  the  consuls,  are  wanting  in  our  duty. 

The  senate  once  passed  a  decree  that  Lucius  O-pim'i-us,  the  consul, 
should  take  care  that  the  republic  suffered  no  injury.  Not  one  night 
elapsed.  There  was  put  to  death,  on  some  mere  suspicion  of  disaffec- 
tion, Caius  Gracchus,  a  man  whose  family  had  borne  the  most  unblem- 
ished reputation  for  many  generations.  There  was  slain  Marcus  Fulvius, 
a  man  of  consular  rank,  and  all  his  children.  By  a  like  decree  of  the 
senate  the  safety  of  the  republic  was  intrusted  to  Caius  Marius  and 
Lucius  Valerius,  the  consuls.  Did  not  the  vengeance  of  the  republic, 
did  not  execution  overtake  Lucius  Sat'ur-ni'nus,  a  tribune  of  the  people, 
and  Caius  Servilius,  the  praetor,  without  the  delay  of  one  single  day? 
But  we,  for  these  twenty  days,  have  been  allowing  the  edge  of  the  senate's 
authority  to  grow  blunt,  as  it  were.  For  we  are  in  possession  of  a  sim- 
ilar decree  of  the  senate,  but  we  keep  it  locked  up  in  its  parchment — 
buried,  I  may  say,  in  the  sheath  ;  and  according  to  this  decree  you 
ought,  O  Catiline,  to  be  put  to  death  this  instant.  You  live — and  you 
live,  not  to  lay  aside,  but  to  persist  in  your  audacity. 

I  wish,  O  conscript  fathers,  to  be  merciful  ;  I  wish  not  to  appear 
negligent  amid  such  danger  to  the  state ;  but  I  do  now  accuse 
myself  of  remissness  and  culpable  inactivity.  A  camp  is  pitched  in 
Italy,  at  the  entrance  of  Etruria,  in  hostility  to  the  republic  ;  the  number 
of  the  enemy  increases  every  day  ;  and  yet  the  general  of  that  camp, 
the  leader  of  those  enemies,  we  see  within  the  walls — ay,  and  even  in 
the  senate — planning  every  day  some  internal  injury  to  the  republic  If, 
O  Catiline,  I  should  now  order  you  to  be  arrested,  to  be  put  to  death,  I 
should,  I  suppose,  have  to  fear  lest  all  good  men  should  say  that  I  had 


206  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

•acted  tardily,  rather  than  that  any  one  should  affirm  that  I  acted  cruelly. 
But  yet  this,  which  ought  to  have  been  done  long  since,  I  have  good  reason 
for  not  doing  as  yet ;  I  will  put  you  to  death,  then,  when  there  shall  be 
not  one  person  possible  to  be  found  so  wicked,  so  abandoned,  so  like 
yourself,  as  not  to  allow  that  it  has  been  rightly  done.  As  long  as  one 
person  exists  who  can  dare  to  defend  you,  you  shall  live  ;  but  you  shall 
]ive  as  you  do  now,  surrounded  by  my  many  and  trusty  guards,  so  that 
you  shall  not  be  able  to  stir  one  finger  against  the  republic :  many  eyes 
and  ears  shall  still  observe  and  watch  you,  as  they  have  hitherto  done, 
though  you  shall  not  perceive  them. 

O  ye  immortal  gods,  where  on  earth  are  we?  in  what  city  are  we 
living  ?  what  constitution  is  ours  ?  There  are  here — here  in  our  body, 
O  conscript  fathers,  in  this  the  most  holy  and  dignified  assembly  of  the 
•whole  world,  men  who  meditate  my  death,  and  the  death  of  all  of  us,  and 
the  destruction  of  this  city,  and  of  the  whole  world.  I,  the  consul,  see 
them;  I  ask  them  their  opinion  about  the  republic, .and  I  do  not  yet  at- 
tack, even  by  words,  those  who  ought  to  be  put  to  death  by  the  sword. 

But  now,  what  is  that  life  of  yours  that  you  are  leading?  For  I  will 
speak  to  you  not  so  as  to  seem  influenced  by  the  hatred  I  ought  to  feel, 
but  by  pity,  nothing  of  which  is  due  to  you.  You  came  a  little  while 
ago  into  the  senate  :  in  so  numerous  an  assembly,  who  of  so  many 
friends  and  connections  of  yours  saluted  you?  If  this  in  the  memory  of 
man  never  happened  to  any  one  else,  are  you  waiting  for  insults  by 
word  of  mouth,  when  you  are  overwhelmed  by  the  most  irresistible 
condemnation  of  silence  ?  Is  it  nothing  that  at  your  arrival  all  those  seats 
were  vacated?  that  all  the  men  of  consular  rank,  who  had  often  been 
marked  out  by  you  for  slaughter,  the  very  moment  you  sat  down,  left 
that  part  of  the  benches  bare  and  vacant  ?  With  what  feelings  do  you 
think  you  ought  to  bear  this  ?  On  my  honor,  if  my  slaves  feared  me 
as  all  your  fellow-citizens  fear  you,  I  should  think  I  must  leave  my 
house.  Do  not  you  think  you  should  leave  the  city  ?  If  I  saw  that  I  was 
even  undeservedly  so  suspected  and  hated  by  my  fellow-citizens,  I  would 
rather  flee  from  their  sight  than  be  gazed  at  by  the  hostile  eyes  of  every 
one.  And  do  you  who,  from  the  consciousness  of  your  wickedness, 
know  that  the  hatred  of  all  men  is  just  and  has  been  long  due  to  you, 
hesitate  to  avoid  the  sight  and  presence  of  those  men  whose  minds  and 
senses  you  offend?  If  your  parents  feared  and  hated  you,  and  if  you 
could  by  no  means  pacify  them,  you  would.  I  think,  depart  somewhere 
out  of  their  sight.  Now,  your  country,  which  is  the  common  parent  of 


Cicero's  Orations.  207 


all  of  us,  hales  and  fears  you,  and  has  no  other  opinion,  of  you,  than 
that  you  are  meditating  parricide  in  her  case  ;  and  will  you  neither  feel 
awe  of  her  authority,  nor  deference  for  her  judgment,  nor  fear  of  her 
power  ? 

And  she,  O  Catiline,  thus  pleads  with  you,  and  after  a  manner  silently 
speaks  to  you  :  There  has  now  for  many  years  been  no  crime  committed 
but  by  you ;  no  atrocity  has  taken  place  without  you  ;  you  alone  un- 
punished and  unquestioned  have  murdered  the  citizens,  have  harassed 
and  plundered  the  allies  ;  you  alone  have  had  power  not  only  to  neglect 
all  laws  and  investigations,  but  to  overthrow  and  break  through  them. 
Your  former  actions,  though  they  ought  not  to  have  been  borne,  yet  I 
did  bear  as  well  as  I  could  ;  but  now  that  I  should  be  wholly  occupied 
with  fear  of  you  alone,  that  at  every  sound  I  should  dread  Catiline,  that 
no  design  should  seem  possible  to  be  entertained  against  me  which  does 
not  proceed  from  your  wickedness,  this  is  no  longer  endurable.  Depart, 
then,  and  deliver  me  from  this  fear ;  that,  if  it  be  a  just  one,  I  may  not 
be  destroyed  ;  if  an  imaginary  one,  that  at  least  I  may  at  last  cease  to 
fear. 

I  will  let  you  see  what  these  men  [Catiline's  fellow-senators]  think  of 
you.  Be  gone  from  the  city,  O  Catiline,  deliver  the  republic  from  fear  ; 
depart  into  banishment,  if  that  is  the  word  you  are  waiting  for.  What 
now,  O  Catiline  ?  Do  you  not  perceive,  do  you  not  see  the  silence 
of  these  men  ?  they  permit  it,  they  say  nothing  ;  why  wait  you  for  the 
authority  of  their  words,  when  you  see  their  wishes  in  their  silence  ? 

But  had  I  said  the  same  to  this  excellent  young  man,  Publius  Sextius, 
or  to  that  brave  man,  Marcus  Marcellus,  before  this  time  the  senate 
would  deservedly  have  laid  violent  hands  on  me,  consul  though  I  be,  in 
this  veiy  temple.  But  as  to  you,  Catiline,  while  they  are  quiet  they  ap- 
prove, while  they  permit  me  to  speak  they  vote,  while  they  are  silent 
they  are  loud  and  eloquent. 

O  conscript  fathers,  let  the  worthless  begone — let  them  separate  them- 
selves from  the  good — let  them  collect  in  one  place — let  them,  as  I  have 
often  said  before,  be  separated  from  us  by  a  wall  ;  let  them  cease  to  plot 
against  the  consul  in  his  own  house — to  surround  the  tribunal  of  the 
city  prsetor — to  besiege  the  senate-house  with  words — to  prepare  brands 
and  torches  to  burn  the  city  ;  let  it,  in  short,  be  written  on  the  brow  of 
every  citizen,  what  are  his  sentiments  about  the  republic.  I  promise 
you  this,  O  conscript  fathers,  that  there  shall  be  so  much  diligence  in 
us  the  consuls,  so  much  authority  in  you,  so  much  virtue  in  the  Roman 


208  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

i 

knights,  so  much  unanimity  in  all  good  men,  that  you  shall  see  every 
thing  made  plain  and  manifest  by  the  departure  of  Catiline — everything 
checked  and  punished 

With  these  omens,  O  Catiline,  begone  to  your  impious  and  nefarious 
war,  to  the  great  safety  of  the  republic,  to  your  own  misfortune  and 
injury,  and  to  the  destruction  of  those  who  have  joined  themselves  to 
you  in  every  wickedness  and  atrocity.  Then  do  you,  O  Jupiter,  who 
were  consecrated  by  Romulus  with  the  same  auspices  as  this  city,  whom 
we  rightly  call  the  stay  of  this  city  and  empire,  repel  this  man  and  his 
companions  from  your  altars  and  from  the  other  temples — from  the 
houses  and  walls  of  the  city — from  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  all  the 
citizens  ;  and  overwhelm  all  the  enemies  of  good  men,  the  foes  of  the 
republic,  the  robbers  of  Italy,  men  bound  together  by  a  treaty  and  in- 
famous alliance  of  crimes,  dead  and  alive,  with  eternal  punishments. 

The  peculiar  effect  of  the  noble  Ciceronian  rhetoric  is 
necessarily  to  a  great  extent  lost  in  any  translation.  We 
use  the  rendering  supplied  to  us  in  Bonn's  Classical  Library. 
The  sense  is  generally  well  transferred,  but  one  regrets  that 
a  translator,  otherwise  so  competent,  should  not  have  had  a 
little  more  feeling'of  style.  Take,  for  example,  the  sentence 
in  the  second  page  of  our  extract :  "  But  we,  for  these  twenty 
days,  have  been  allowing  the  edge  of  the  senate's  authority 
to  grow  blunt,  as  if  were.'9  The  "as  it  were"  is  an  addition 
of  the  translator's.  How  it  enfeebles  the  sentence  !  Placed 
as  it  is  at  the  end,  it  has  almost  the  effect  of  intentional  hu- 
morous burlesque.  What  Cicero  said  was  :  "  But  we  consuls 
now  the  twentieth  day  are  suffering  to  grow  blunt  the  edge 
of  this  body's  authority."  This  example  of  the  translator's 
execution  is  perhaps  extreme,  but  it  by  no  means  stands 
alone.  Our  readers  will  have  to  imagine  the  nerve  and  force 
of  expression  to  be  at  least  doubled  throughout  in  the  orig- 
inal. "O  temporal  O  mores!"  is  rendered,  indeed,  in  its 
purport,  but  not  in  its  power  by,  "  Shame  on  the  age  and  on 
its  principles  !  "  "  O,  the  times  !  O,  the  manners  [morals]  !  " 
would  be  literal. 

The  effect  of  a  speech  so  very  unconventionally  frank,  on 


Cicero's  Orations.  209 


the  person  against  whom  it  was  aimed,  seems  not  to  have  been 
immediately  and  overwhelmingly  discomposing.  Catiline 
begged  that  the  senate  would  not  be  hasty  in  giving  credit 
to  the  wild  accusations  of  Cicero.  The  senate  responded 
with  cries  of  "Traitor!"  and  "Parricide!"  This  enraged 
Catiline,  and  he  declared  that  the  flame  which  his  enemies 
were  kindling  around  him  he  would  quench  in  the  general 
ruin.  He  flung  himself  out  of  the  temple. 

Our  readers  are  all  familiar  with  extracts  at  least  from  the 
tragedy  of  "  Catiline  "  by  George  Croly.  That  is  a  work  of 
some  real  power,  a  little  overstrained  perhaps  in  intensity 
of  expression,  but  well  worth  studying  in  connection  with 
these  orations  of  Cicero.  Ben  Jonson  has  a  drama  on  the 
same  subject. 

"I  go,  but  I  return  !"  Croly  makes  Catiline,  leaving  the 
senate,  exclaim.  He  did  go  to  the  camp  of  the  army  col- 
lected by  the  conspirators,  designing  to  come  back  at  the 
head  of  a  column  of  troops.  He  took  with  him,  among  other 
things,  a  silver  eagle  once  used  by  Marius  in  fighting  the 
Cimbri.  This  standard  he  made  much  of  as  invested  with 
some  supernatural  charm.  Cicero  had  now  a  task  of  justify- 
ing himself  before  the  people  of  Rome.  Catiline's  friends 
got  it  reported  that  Catiline  had  gone  into  voluntary  exile  to 
Marseilles,  driven  forth  by  the  violence  of  the  consul.  To 
meet  the  popular  odium  sought  thus  to  be  excited  against 
himself,  and  in  general  to  satisfy  public  opinion  in  Rome 
that  what  had  been  done  had  been  wisely  done,  Cicero 
harangued  the  people  in  the  forum.  We  give  some  extracts 
from  this  address,  usually  called  the 

SECOND  ORATION  AGAINST  CATILINE. 

AT  length,  O  Romans,  we  have  dismissed  from  the  city,  or  driven  out, 
or,  when  he  was  departing  of  his  own  accord,  we  have  pursued  with 
words,  Lucius  Catiline,  mad  with  audacity,  breathing  wickedness,  im- 
piously planning  mischief  to  his  country,  threatening  fire  and  sword  to 
you  and  to  this  city.  He  is  gone,  he  has  departed,  he  has  disappeared, 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


he  has  rushed  out.  No  injury  will  now  be  prepared  against  these  walls 
within  the  walls  themselves  by  that  monster  and  prodigy  of  wicked- 
ness. .  .  .  Now  he  lies  prostrate,  O  Romans,  and  feels  himself  stricken 
down  and  abject,  and  often  casts  back  his  eyes  toward  this  city,  which 
he  mourns  over  as  snatched  from  his  jaws,  but  which  seems  to  me  to  re- 
joice at  having  vomited  forth  such  a  pest,  and  cast  it  out  of  doors. 

But  if  there  be  any  one  of  that  disposition  which  all  men  should  have, 
who  yet  blames  me  greatly  for  the  very  thing  in  which  my  speech  exults 
and  triumphs — namely,  that  I  did  not  arrest  so  capital  mortal  an  enemy 
rather  than  let  him  go — that  is  not  my  fault,  O  citizens,  but  the  fault  of 
the  times.  Lucius  Catiline  ought  to  have  been  visited  with  the  severest 
punishment,  and  to  have  been  put  to  death  long  since  ;  and  both  the 
customs  of  our  ancestors,  and  the  rigor  of  my  office,  and  the  republic, 
demanded  this  of  me  ;  but  how  many,  think  you,  were  there  who  did 
not  believe  what  I  reported  ?  how  many  who  out  of  stupidity  did  not 
think  so?  how  many  who  even  defended  him?  how  many  who,  out  of 
their  own  depravity,  favored  him?  If,  in  truth,  I  had  thought  that,  if 
he  were  removed,  all  danger  would  be  removed  from  you,  I  would  long 
since  have  cut  off  Lucius  Catiline,  had  it  been  at  the  risk,  not  only  of 
my  popularity,  but  even  of  my  life. 

There  is  no  nation  for  us  to  fear — no  king  who  can  make  war  on  the 
Roman  people.  All  foreign  affairs  are  tranquil ized,  both  by  land  and 
sea,  by  the  valor  of  one  man,  [Pompey.]  Domestic  war  alone  remains- 
The  only  plots  against  us  are  within  our  own  walls — the  danger  is  within — 
the  enemy  is  within.  We  must  war  with  luxury,  with  madness,  with 
wickedness.  For  this  war,  O  citizens,  I  offer  myself  as  the  general. 
I  take  on  myself  the  enmity  of  profligate  men.  What  can  be  cured,  I 
will  cure,  by  whatever  means  it  may  be  possible.  What  must  be  cut 
away,  I  will  not  suffer  to  spread,  to  the  ruin  of  the  republic.  Let  them 
depart,  or  let  them  stay  quiet ;  or  if  they  remain  in  the  city  and  in  the 
same  disposition  as  at  present,  let  them  expect  what  they  deserve. 

I  will  tell  you,  O  Romans,  of  what  classes  of  men  those  forces  are 
made  up,  and  then,  if  I  can,  I  will  apply  to  each  the  medicine  of  my 
advice  and  persuasion. 

There  is  one  class  of  them,  who,  with  enormous  debts,  have  still  greater 
possessions,  and  who  can  by  no  means  be  detached  from  their  affection 
to  them.  .  .  .  But  I  think  these  men  are  the  least  of  all  to  be  dreaded, 
because  they  can  either  be  persuaded  to  abandon  their  opinions,  or  if 
they  cling  to  them,  they  seem  to  me  more  likely  to  form  wishes  against 
the  republic  than  to  bear  arms  against  it. 


Cicero's  Orations. 


There  is  another  class  of  them,  who,  although  they  are  harassed  by 
debt,  yet  are  expecting  supreme  power ;  they  wish  to  become  masters. 
...  If  these  had  already  got  that  which  they  with  the  greatest  madness 
wish  for,  do  they  think  that  in  the  ashes  of  the  city  and  blood  of  the 
citizens,  which  in  their  wicked  and  infamous  hearts  they  desire,  they 
will  become  consuls  and  dictators,  and  even  kings?  Do  they  not  see 
that  they  are  wishing  for  that  which,  if  they  were  to  obtain  it,  must  be 
given  up  to  some  fugitive  slave,  or  to  some  gladiator  ? 

There  is  a  third  class,  already  touched  by  age,  but  still  vigorous  from 
constant  exercise.  .  .  .  These  are  colonists,  who,  from  becoming  pos- 
sessed of  unexpected  and  sudden  wealth,  boast  themselves  extravagantly 
and  insolently ;  these  men,  while  they  build  like  rich  men,  while  they 
delight  in  farms,  in  litters,  in  vast  families  of  slaves,  in  luxurious  ban- 
quets, have  incurred  such  great  debts,  that,  if  they  would  be  saved,  they 
must  raise  Sylla  from  the  dead.  .  .  .  Let  them  cease  to  be  mad,  and  to 
think  of  proscriptions  and  dictatorships  ;  for  such  a  horror  of  these 
times  is  ingrained  into  the  city,  that  not  even  men,  but  it  seems  to  me 
that  even  the  very  cattle,  would  refuse  to  bear  them  again. 

There  is  a  fourth  class,  various,  promiscuous,  and  turbulent  ;  .  .  . 
not  so  much  active  soldiers  as  lazy  insolvents.  ...  As  to  these,  I  do 
not  understand  why,  if  they  cannot  live  with  honor,  they  should  wish 
to  die  shamefully  ;  or  why  they  think  they  shall  perish  with  less  pain 
in  a  crowd,  than  if  they  perish  by  themselves. 

There  is  a  fifth  class,  of  parricides,  assassins;  in  short,  of  all  infamous 
characters,  whom  I  do  not  wish  to  recall  from  Catiline,  and  indeed 
they  cannot  be  separated  from  him.  Let  them  perish  in  their  wicked 
war,  since  they  are  so  numerous  that  a  prison  cannot  contain  them. 

There  is  a  last  class,  last  not  only  in  number  but  in  the  sort  of  men 
and  in  their  way  of  life ;  the  especial  body-guard  of  Catiline,  of  his 
levying ;  ay,  the  friends  of  his  embraces  and  of  his  bosom  ;  whom 
you  see  with  carefully-combed  hair,  glossy,  beardless,  or  with  well- 
trimmed  beards  ;  with  tunics  with  sleeves,  or  reaching  to  the  ankles ; 
clothed  with  veils,  not  with  robes,  all  the  industry  of  whose  life,  all  the 
labor  of  whose  watchfulness,  is  expended  in  suppers  lasting  till  day- 
break. 

On  the  one  side  are  fighting  modesty,  on  the  other,  wantonness  ;  on  the 
one,  chastity,  on  the  other,  uncleanness  ;  on  the  one,  honesty,  on  the 
other,  fraud;  on  the  one,  piety,  on  the  other,  wickedness  ;  on  the  one,  con- 
sistency, on  the  other,  insanity  ;  on  the  one,  honor,  on  the  other,  baseness; 
on  the  one,  continence,  on  the  other,  lust ;  in  short,  equity,  temperance, 
fortitude,  prudence,  all  the  virtues,  contend  against  iniquity  with  luxury, 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


against  indolence,  against  rashness,  against  all  the  vices  ;  lastly,  abundance 
contends  against  destitution,  good  plans  against  baffled  designs,  wisdom 
against  madness,  well-founded  hope  against  universal  despair.  In  a  con- 
test and  war  of  this  sort,  even  if  the  zeal  of  men  were  to  fail,  will  not  the 
immortal  gods  compel  such  numerous  and  excessive  vices  to  be  defeated 
by  these  most  eminent  virtues? 

Now  once  more  I  wish  those  who  have  remained  in  the  city,  and  who, 
contrary  to  the  safety  of  the  city  and  of  all  of  you,  have  been  left  in  the 
city  by  Catiline,  although  they  are  enemies,  yet  because  they  were  born 
citizens,  to  be  warned  again  and  again  by  me.  ...  If  any  one  stirs  in 
the  city,  and  if  I  detect  not  only  any  action,  but  any  attempt  or  design 
against  the  country,  he  shall  feel  that  there  are  in  this  city  vigilant  con- 
suls, eminent  magistrates,  a  brave  senate,  arms,  and  prisons,  which 
our  ancestors  appointed  as  the  avengers  of  nefarious  and  convicted 
crimes. 

.  .  .  An  internal  civil  war  the  most  cruel  and  terrible  in  the  memory 
of  man,  shall  be  put  an  end  to  by  me  alone  in  the  robe  of  peace  acting 
as  general  and  commander-in-chief.  .  .  .  And  this  I  promise  you,  O 
Romans,  relying  neither  on  my  own  prudence,  nor  on  human  counsels, 
but  on  many  and  manifest  intimations  of  the  will  of  the  immortal  gods  ; 
under  whose  guidance  I  first  entertained  this  hope  and  this  opinion  ; 
who  are  now  defending  their  temples  and  the  houses  of  the  city,  not  afar 
off,  as  they  were  used  to,  from  a  foreign  and  distant  enemy,  but  here  on 
the  spot,  by  their  own  divinity  and  present  help.  And  you,  O  Romans, 
ought  to  pray  to  and  implore  them  to  defend  from  the  nefarious  wicked- 
ness of  abandoned  citizens,  now  that  all  the  forces  of  all  enemies  are  de- 
feated by  land  and  sea,  this  city  which  they  have  ordained  to  be  the 
most  beautiful  and  flourishing  of  all  cities. 

Look  back  and  observe  the  sagacity  with  which  the  orator, 
instead  of  assuming  the  attitude  of  self-defense,  begins  by 
boldly  making  a  merit  of  his  conduct. 

The  third  oration  is  interesting.  It  has  even  something 
of  the  interest  of  plot  described,  as  well  as  of  eloquence. 
It  is  addressed  to  the  people,  and  it  details,  in  masterly  nar- 
ration, the  incidents  of  the  discovery  of  full  documentary 
evidence  against  the  conspirators.  The  Allobroges  had  at 
the  moment  an  embassy  in  Rome,  with  whom  the  conspira- 
tors had  tampered.  But  Cicero  received  from  these  Gallic 


Cicero's  Orations.  213 


envoys  a  hint  of  the  approaches  made  to  them.  He  bade 
them  go  on  and  obtain  full  knowledge  of  the  plans  of  the 
conspirators.  This  they  did.  At  Cicero's  suggestion  they 
demanded  credentials  in  black  and  white  which  they  might 
carry  home  to  their  nation.  Such  were  supplied,  and  then, 
as  they  were  withdrawing  homeward,  they  were  arrested  and 
brought  back  with  their  papers  in  possession.  The  evidence 
was  so  unquestionable  that  the  conspirators  could  not  gain- 
say it,  and  one  of  them  made  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole 
crime.  Such  in  brief  is  what  Cicero  in  this  admirable  pop- 
ular speech  recites  to  his  hearers. 

The  subject  of  the  fourth  speech  delivered  in  the  senate 
is  the  disposal  to  be  made  of  the  conspirators  now  in  custody. 
To  put  to  death  a  Roman  citizen,  especially  one  of  high 
extraction,  was  opposed  to  the  traditionary  popular  preju- 
dice at  Rome.  However,  the  consul  elect  (not  Cicero,  but 
Silanus,  Cicero's  destined  successor)  did  not  scruple  to  de- 
clare in  favor  of  the  penalty  of  death.  All  speakers  fol- 
lowing concurred  in  his  opinion,  until  Julius  Csesar  rose  and 
in  a  specious  speech  argued  for  imprisonment  instead,  together 
with  confiscation  of  estate.  Cato  stood  up  strongly  against 
Caesar.  Some,  however,  of  Cicero's  friends  inclined  toward 
the  more  lenient  view,  deeming  that  less  likely  to  prove  injuri- 
ous to  Cicero  himself.  On  this,  Cicero  spoke  in  favor  of  the 
capital  sentence.  His  weight  and  eloquence  prevailed.  The 
conspirators  were  strangled  by  torchlight  in  their  under- 
ground dungeon.  The  suppression  of  this  conspiracy  was 
an  occasion  of  triumph  to  Cicero.  No  civilian's  glory  had 
ever  been  so  great  at  Rome.  He  was  saluted  Pater  Patrice, 
"  Father  of  his  Fatherland." 

We  have  space  for  but  little  of  this  fourth  speech.  Our 
readers  will,  however,  for  several  reasons  demand  to  see 
how  Cicero  touches  upon  the  opinions  and  arguments  of  his 
fellow-senator,  Csesar.  We  extract  briefly  to  show,  from 
Cicero's  statement  of  them,  the  tenor  of  Caesar's  remarks. 


2i4  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

The  advice  of  Silanus,  consul  elect,  to  put  the  conspirators 
to  death,  is  contrasted  with  that  of  Julius  Caesar,  thus : 

The  other  [Ccesar]  feels  that  death  was  not  appointed  by  the  immortal 
gods  for  the  sake  of  punishment,  but  that  it  is  either  a  necessity  of 
nature,  or  a  rest  from  toils  and  miseries  ;  therefore  wise  men  have  never 
met  it  unwillingly,  brave  men  have  often  encountered  it  even  voluntarily. 
But  imprisonment,  and  that  too  perpetual,  was  certainly  invented  for  the 
extraordinary  punishment  of  nefarious  wickedness  :  therefore  he  propo- 
ses that  they  should  be  distributed  among  the  municipal  towns.  This 
proposition  seems  to  have  in  it  injustice  if  you  command  it,  difficulty  if 
you  request  it ;  however,  let  it  be  so  decreed  if  you  like. 

For  I  will  undertake,  and,  as  I  hope,  I  shall  find  one  who  will  not  think 
it  suitable  to  his  dignity  to  refuse  what  you  decide  on  for  the  sake  of  the 
universal  safety.  He  imposes,  besides,  a  severe  punishment  on  the  bur- 
gesses of  the  municipal  town  if  any  of  the  prisoners  escape ;  he  sur- 
rounds them  with  the  most  terrible  guard,  and  with  every  thing  worthy 
of  the  wickedness  of  abandoned  men.  And  he  proposes  to  establish  a 
decree  that  no  one  shall  be  able  to  alleviate  the  punishment  of  those 
whom  he  is  condemning,  by  a  vote  of  either  the  senate  or  the  people. 
He  takes  away  even  hope,  which  alone  can  comfort  men  in  their  mis- 
eries ;  besides  this,  he  votes  that  their  goods  should  be  confiscated  ;  he 
leaves  life  alone  to  these  infamous  men,  and  if  he  had  taken  that  away, 
he  would  have  relieved  them  by  one  pang  of  many  tortures  of  mind  and 
body  and  of  all  the  punishment  of  their  crimes.  Therefore,  that  there 
might  be  some  dread  in  life  to  the  wicked,  men  of  old  have  believed  that 
there  were  some  punishments  of  that  sort  appointed  for  the  wicked  in 
the  shades  below  ;  because  in  truth  they  perceived  that  if  this  were 
taken  away  death  itself  would  not  be  terrible. 

Now,  O  conscript  fathers,  I  see  what  is  my  interest.  If  you  follow  the 
opinion  of  Caius  Caesar,  (since  he  has  adopted  this  path  in  the  republic, 
which  is  accounted  the  popular  one,)  perhaps  as  he  is  the  author  and 
promoter  of  this  opinion,  the  popular  violence  will  be  less  to  be  dreaded 
by  me.  If  you  adopt  the  other  opinion,  I  know  not  but  I  am  likely  to 
have  more  trouble.  Still,  let  the  advantage  of  the  republic  outweigh  the 
consideration  of  my  danger.  For  we  have  from  Caius  Caesar,  as  his 
own  dignity  and  as  the  illustrious  character  of  his  ancestors  demanded, 
a  vote  as  a  hostage  of  his  lasting  good-will  to  the  republic.  It  has 
been  clearly  seen  how  great  is  the  difference  between  the  lenity  of  dem- 
agogues, and  a  disposition  really  attached  to  the  interests  of  the  people. 


Cicero's  Orations. 


215 


This  most  gentle  and  merciful  man  does  not  hesitate  to  commit  Publius 
Lentulus  to  eternal  darkness  and  imprisonment,  and  he  establishes  a 
law  to  all  posterity  that  no  one  shall  be  able  to  boast  of  alleviating  his 
punishment,  or  hereafter  to  appear  a  friend  of  the  people  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Roman  people.  He  adds,  also,  the  confiscation  of  their 
goods,  so  that  want  also  and  beggary  may  be  added  to  all  the  torments 
of  mind  and  body.  Wherefore,  if  you  decide  on  this,  you  give  me  a  com- 
panion in  my  address  dear  and  acceptable  to  the  Roman  people. 

The  comity  proper  between  senators  is  carefully  observed 
in  Cicero's  answer  to  Caesar.  Nay,  you  feel  that  Cicero  is 
conscious  of  dealing  now  with  a  man  whose  popular  influence 
is  at  least  to  be  respected,  perhaps  to  be  feared.  How  much 
self-control,  combined  with  how  much  fine  courage,  was  dis- 
played by  Cicero,  if,  within  himself,  he  indeed  knew,  what 
Mommsen  supposes  to  be  certainly  true,  that  Cassar  was  all 
the  time,  by  secret  encouragement,  in  complicity  with  the 
conspirators !  In  that  case,  however,  you  cannot  acquit 
Cicero  of  being  crafty  at  some  expense  of  candor.  We  can 
seldom  be  quite  sure,  in  a  great  game  of  statesmanship  or 
diplomacy,  what  motives  behind  the  mask  of  decent  appear- 
ance really  work  in  the  breasts  of  those  engaged  in  it. 

We  shall  probably,  after  what  we  say  here,  make  little 
return,  beyond  casual  allusion,  to  the  subject  of  Cicero  as  an 
orator.  We  wish  we  had  room  to  render  our  presentation 
less  inadequate  than,  as  the  case  stands,  we  shall  feel  under 
the  necessity  of  leaving  it.  The  range  of  Cicero's  eloquence 
is  so  wide,  that  adequately  to  represent  it  would  require  a 
whole  volume  as  large  as  this.  There  is,  however,  one  other 
cycle  of  Cicero's  speeches  too  important  in  themselves,  and 
too  important  for  illustration  of  the  orator's  genius  and 
character,  not  to  be  spoken  of  here,  and  exemplified  in  at 
least  a  few  extracts. 

We  refer  to  the  fourteen  orations  that  go  by  the  name  of 
the  Philippics — a  style  of  designation  imitated  and  appro- 
priated from  the  famous  harangues  of  Demosthenes  against 


216  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Philip  of  Macedon.  Cicero's  Philippics  were  directed 
against  Mark  Antony.  They  were  delivered,  part  of  them 
to  the  senate,  and  part  of  them  before  the  people,  within 
the  period  following  Julius  Caesar's  death  during  which  it  re- 
mained doubtful  what  course  of  public  policy  would  be  pur- 
sued by  young  Octavian,  (Csesar  Augustus,)  named  in  Caesar's 
will  as  his  political  heir.  Cicero  still  hoped  that  the  des- 
tined future  emperor  might  be  induced  to  restore  the 
republic. 

Antony  meantime,  who,  as  having  been  Caesar's  colleague 
in  nominal  consulship,  had  succeeded  to  the  place  of  chief 
actual  power  in  the  state,  was  manifestly  taking  measures  to 
confirm  himself  in  a  kind  of  imperial  usurpation.  He  had 
been  in  negotiation  and  collusion  with  the  assassins — Liber- 
ators, it  was  the  fashion  to  call  them — but  he  was  evidently 
beginning  to  revive  Cassarism  by  such  contrivances  of  ad- 
ministration as,  for  that  purpose,  he  dared  adventure  upon. 
He  convened  the  senate  to  confer  some  additional  divine 
honors  on  the  dead  dictator.  That  day's  session,  Cicero, 
though  specially  requested  by  Antony  to  do  so,  did  not  at- 
tend. He  was  against  the  measure  proposed.  Antony,  pro- 
voked, talked  threateningly  in  the  senate  about  pulling  down 
the  recusant  ex-consul's  house  about  his  ears. 

The  next  day,  Cicero  went  to  the  senate,  and,  Antony  in 
his  turn  being  absent,  delivered  a  speech  in  dignified,  mod- 
erate, but  quite  firm,  opposition  to  Antony.  Provoked  again, 
Antony  replied  in  a  violent  personal  invective.  To  this, 
Cicero  prudently  abstained  from  replying  in  the  senate ;  but 
he  wrote  out  a  speech  in  response,  which,  having  previously 
sent  it  in  private  to  some  of  his  friends,  he  finally  published 
as  the  second  philippic.  This  second  philippic,  conceived 
and  composed  as  if  addressed  in  immediate  reply  to  Antony 
before  the  senate,  constitutes  what  is  generally  esteemed  the 
masterpiece  of  Cicero's  eloquence. 

The  contrast  in  tone,  in  style,  in  matter,  which  this  philip- 


Cicero's  Orations.  217 


pic,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  series,  presents  to  the 
other  orations  of  Cicero,  not  excepting  even  the  vehement 
onslaughts  upon  Catiline,  is  more  than  merely  strong,  it  is 
violent.  You  could  hardly  believe  it  possible  for  the  author 
•  of  the  courtly  orations  for  the  poet  Archias,  for  the  Man- 
ilian  Law,  for  Marcus  Marcellus,  to  produce  discourse  so 
indignant,  so  impetuous,  so  direct,  so  hard-hitting,  nay,  so 
savage,  as  the  orations  against  Antony.  The  flowing  robes 
are  flung  off,  and  the  orator  speaks  like  an  athlete,  rather 
like  a  warrior,  stripped  to  hew  his  antagonist  to  the  ground. 

The  simplest  way,  and  the  most  obvious,  would,  of  course, 
be  to  insert  this  second  philippic  entire.  But,  unfortunately 
for  that  purpose,  the  speech  is  very  long,  (about  fifty  of  these 
pages) ;  unfortunately  again,  and  more  unfortunately,  it  is  so 
replete  with  local,  temporary,  personal  allusion,  that,  without 
a  commentary  as  long  as  itself,  it  would  be  unintelligible  to 
the  general  reader.  It  must  also  be  added  that  there  is  in 
the  speech  a  good  deal  which  would  shock,  rather  than  please, 
the  refined  modern  taste.  Cicero  is  perfectly  conscious  of 
the  change  from  his  customary  style  presented  in  this  speech. 
He  makes  the  change  deliberately.  He  is  resolved  to  deal 
with  a  truculent  man  in  a  sufficiently  truculent  manner  to  be 
effective.  He  succeeded.  He  succeeded  too  we'll.  The 
result  was  finally  fatal  to  himself.  Antony  felt  the  sting  of 
Cicero's  dreadful  sarcasm  so  keenly  that  when,  afterward,  in 
disappointment  of  Cicero's  patriotic  hopes,  Antony  and  Oc- 
tavian  came  to  an  understanding,  and  each,  in  the  bloody 
proscription  that  followed,  agreed  to  sacrifice  his  own  per- 
sonal friends  to  the  demands  of  the  other's  revenge — Cicero's 
head  and  hands  cut  off  were  brought,  ghastly  reeking  gifts 
to  Antony,  and  by  him  nailed  up  in  the  forum  that  had  been 
wont  to  ring  with  the  resonant  voice,  and  to  flash  with  the 
passionate  gesture,  of  the  orator. 

Antony  was,   undoubtedly,  one  of  the   most  shamelessly 

profligate   of  men.     Otherwise  such   accusations   as  Cicero 
10 


21 8  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

brought  must,  with  his  audience,  have  reacted  against  the 
bringer. 

AVe  must  content  ourselves  with  brief  citations.     Here  is 
the  opening  of  the  speech,  [we  condense  by  omissions  :] 

To  what  destiny  of  mine,  O  conscript  fathers,  shall  I  say  that  it  is 
owing,  that  none  for  the  last  twenty  years  has  been  an  enemy  to  the  re- 
public without  at  the  same  time  declaring  war  against  me  ?  Nor  is 
there  any  necessity  for  naming  any  particular  person;  you  yourselves  rec- 
ollect instances  in  proof  of  my  statement.  They  have-all  hitherto  suf- 
fered severer  punishments  than  I  could  have  wished  for  them  ;  but  I 
marvel  that  you,  O  Antonius,  do  not  fear  the  end  of  those  men  whose 
conduct  you  are  imitating.  And  in  others  I  was  less  surprised  at  this. 
None  of  these  men  of  former  times  was  a  voluntary  enemy  to  me  ;  all 
of  them  were  attacked  by  me  for  the  sake  of  the  republic.  But  you, 
who  have  never  been  injured  by  me,  not  even  by  a  word,  in  order  to  ap- 
pear more  audacious  than  Catiline,  more  frantic  than  Clodius,  have  of 
your  own  accord  attacked  me  with  abuse. 

Did  he  think  that  it  was  easiest  to  disparage  me  in  the  senate?  a  body 
which  has  borne  its  testimony  in  favor  of  many  most  illustrious  citizens 
that  they  governed  the  republic  well,  but  in  favor  of  me  alone,  of  all 
men,  that  I  preserved  it.  Or  did  he  wish  to  contend  with  me  in  a  ri- 
valry of  eloquence?  This,  indeed,  is  an  act  of  generosity!  for  what 
could  be  a  more  fertile  or  richer  subject  for  me  than  to  have  to  speak  in 
defense  of  myself,  and  against  Antonius? 

In  that  complaint,  [Cicero's  first  philippic,]  mournful  indeed  and  misera- 
ble, but  still  unavoidable  for  a  man  of  that  rank  in  which  the  senate  and 
people  of  Rome  have  placed  me,  what  did,  I  say  that  was  insulting  ?  that 
was  otherwise  than  moderate?  that  was  otherwise  than  friendly?  and 
what  instance  was  it  not  of  moderation  to  complain  of  the  conduct  of 
Marcus  Antonius,  and  yet  to  abstain  from  any  abusive  expressions  ?  es- 
pecially when  you  had  scattered  abroad  all  relics  of  the  republic  ;  when 
every  thing  was  on  sale  at  your  house  by  the  most  infamous  traffic  ;  when 
you  confessed  that  those  laws  which  had  never  been  promulgated  had 
been  passed  with  reference  to  you,  and  by  you  ;  when  you,  being  augur, 
had  abolished  the  auspices,  being  consul,  had  taken  away  the  power  of 
interposing  the  veto  ;  when  you  were  escorted  in  the  most  shameful 
manner  by  armed  guards  ;  when,  worn  out  with  drunkermess  and  de- 
bauchery, you  were  every  day  performing  all  sorts  of  obscenities  in  that 


Cicero's  Orations.  219 


chaste  house  of  yours.  But  I,  as  if  I  had  to  contend  against  Marcus 
Crassus,  with  whom  I  have  had  many  severe  struggles,  and  not  with  a 
most  worthless  gladiator,  while  complaining  in  dignified  language  of 
the  state  of  the  republic,  did  not  say  one  word  which  could  be  called 
personal.  Therefore,  to-day  I  will  make  him  understand  with  what 
great  kindness  he  was  then  treated  by  me. 

Since,  O  conscript  fathers,  I  have  many  things  which  I  may  say  both  in 
my  own  defense  and  against  Marcus  Antonias,  one  thing  I  ask  you,  that 
you  will  listen  to  me  with  kindness  while  I  am  speaking  for  myself  ;  the 
other  I  will  insure  myself,  namely,  that  you  shall  listen  to  me  with 
attention  while  speaking  against  him.  At  the  same  time  also,  I  beg 
this  of  you  :  that  if  you  have  been  acquainted  with  my  moderation  and 
modesty  throughout  my  whole  life,  and  especially  as  a  speaker,  you  will 
not,  when  to-day  I  answer  this  man  in  the  spirit  in  which  he  has  at- 
tacked me,  think  that  I  have  forgotten  my  usual  character.  I  will  not 
treat  him  as  a  consul,  for  he  did  not  treat  me  as  a  man  of  consular  rank  ; 
and  although  he  in  no  respect  deserves  to  be  considered  a  consul, 
whether  we  regard  his  way  of  life,  or  his  principle  of  governing  the  re- 
public, or  the  manner  in  which  he  was  elected,  I  am  beyond  all  dis- 
pute a  man  of  consular  rank. 

On  one  occasion,  [addressed  directly  as  to  Antony,]  you  attempted 
even  to  be  witty.  O  ye  good  gods,  how  little  did  that  attempt  suit  you  ! 
And  yet  you  are  a  little  to  be  blamed  for  your  failure  in  that  instance, 
too.  For  you  might  have  got  some  wit  from  your  wife,  who  was  an 
actress.  "Arms  to  the  gown  must  yield."  \Cedant  anna  togas, — "let 
military  yield  to  civil  power."  This  is  a  bit  of  verse  from  Cicero  him- 
self ;  Antony  had  evidently  been  rallying  his  antagonist  on  it ;  Cicero 
meant  it  in  praise  of  his  own  exploits.]  Well,  have  they  not  yielded  ? 
But  afterward  the  gown  yielded  to  your  arms.  Let  us  inquire,  then, 
whether  it  was  better  for  the  arms  of  wicked  men  to  yield  to  the  free- 
dom of  the  Roman  people,  or  that  our  liberty  should  yield  to  your 
arms.  Nor  will  I  make  any  further  reply  to  you  about  the  verses.  I  will 
only  say  briefly  that  you  do  not  understand  them,  nor  any  other  litera- 
ture whatever. 

The  free  and  frequent  change,  on  Cicero's  part,  from  ad- 
dressing the  senate  to  addressing  Antony,  indicates  the 
highly  dramatic  play  of  delivery  in  which  the  orator  must 
have  been  accustomed  to  indulge.  Antony,  it  seems,  in- 


22O  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

culpatcd  Cicero  as  in  complicity  with  the  assassins  of  Caesar. 
Cicero  points  out  the  inconsistency  of  Antony's  praising,  as 
Antony  did,  the  conspirators,  and,  at  the  same  time,  blaming 
Cicero.  Cicero,  however,  shows,  as  to  himself,  that  though 
he  approved  the  deed  when  the  deed  had  been  done,  he 
could  have  had  no  part  in  the  doing  of  the  deed,  since, 
were  it  otherwise,  his  name  must  have  been  associated  with 
it  in  the  popular  fame  of  so  illustrious  an  exploit.  Evidently, 
at  that  point  of  time,  it  was  the  prevailing  opinion  at  Rome 
that  Caesar's  murder  was  a  praiseworthy  act  of  liberation  for 
the  state.  Cicero  goes  over  Antony's  life  and  finds  abundant 
matter  of  invective  : 

Let  us  speak  of  his  meaner  descriptions  of  worthlessness.  You, 
with  those  jaws  of  yours,  and  those  sides  of  yours,  and  that  strength  of 
body  suited  to  a  gladiator,  drank  such  quantities  of  wine  at  the  mar- 
riage of  Ilippia,  that  you  were  forced  to  vomit  the  next  day  in  the  sight 
of  the  Roman  people.  O  action  disgraceful  not  merely  to  see,  but  even 
to  hear  of!  If  this  had  happened  to  you  at  supper  amid  those  vast 
drinking-cups  of  yours  who  would  not  have  thought  it  scandalous  ?  But 
in  an  assembly  of  the  Roman  people,  a  man  holding  a  public  office,  a 
master  of  the  horse,  to  whom  it  would  have  been  disgraceful  even  to 
belch,  vomiting  filled  his  own  bosom  and  the  whole  tribunal  with  frag- 
ments of  what  he  had  been  eating  reeking  with  wine. 

Cicero  comes  to  an  incident  in  Antony's  career  the  men- 
tion of  which,  as  the  author's  lively  imagination  prompts  him, 
writing  in  his  closet,  to  suppose,  makes  Antony  start : 

He  does  not  dissemble,  O  conscript  fathers  ;  it  is  plain  that  he  is 
agitated ;  he  perspires  ;  he  turns  pale.  Let  him  do  what  he  pleases, 
provided  he  is  not  sick,  and  does  not  behave  as  he  did  in  the  Minucian 
colonnade.  .  .  .  Your  colleague  [Julius  Caesar]  was  sitting  in  the 
rostra,  clothed  in  a  purple  robe,  on  a  golden  chair,  wearing  a  crown. 
You  mount  the  steps  ;  you  approach  his  chair,  (if  you  were  a  priest  of 
Pan,  you  ought  to  have  recollected  that  you  were  consul  too  ; )  you  dis- 
play a  diadem.  There  is  a  groan  over  the  whole  forum.  Where  did 
the  diadem  come  from  ?  For  you  had  not  picked  it  up  when  lying  on 
the  ground,  but  you  had  brought  it  from  home  with  you,  a  premeditated 


Cicero's  Orations. 


and  deliberately  planned  wickedness.  You  placed  the  diadem  on  his 
head  amid  the  groans  of  the  people  ;  he  rejected  it  amid  great  applause. 
You  then  alone,  O  wicked  man,  were  found,  both  to  advise  the  assump- 
tion of  kingly  power,  and  to  wish  to  have  him  for  your  master  who  was 
your  colleague  ;  and  also  to  try  what  the  Roman  people  might  be  able  to 
bear  and  to  endure.  Moreover,  you  even  sought  to  move  his  pity  ;  you 
threw  yourself  at  his  feet  as  a  suppliant  ;  begging  for  what?  to  be  a 
slave?  You  might  beg  it  for  yourself,  when  you  had  lived  in  such  a 
way  from  the  time  that  you  were  a  boy  that  you  could  bear  every  thing, 
and  would  find  no  difficulty  in  being  a  slave  ;  but  certainly  you  had  no 
commission  from  the  Roman  people  to  try  for  such  a  thing  for  them. 

O  how  splendid  was  that  eloquence  of  yours,  when  you  harangued  the 
people  stark  naked  !  What  could  be  more  foul  than  this?  more 
shameful  than  this?  more  deserving  of  every  sort  of  punishment  ?  Are 
you  waiting  for  me  to  prick  you  more  ?  This  that  I  am  saying  must 
tear  you  and  bring  blood  enough,  if  you  have  any  feeling  at  all.  I  am 
afraid  that  I  may  be  detracting  from  the  glory  of  some  most  eminent 
men.  Still  my  indignation  shall  find  a  voice.  What  can  be  more  scan- 
dalous than  for  that  man  to  live  who  placed  a  diadem  on  a  man's  head, 
when  every  one  confesses  that  that  man  was  deservedly  slain  who  re- 
jected it  ?  And,  moreover,  he  caused  it  to  be  recorded  in  the  annals, 
under  the  head  of  Lupercalia,  "That  Marcus  Antonius,  the  consul,  by 
command  of  the  people,  had  offered  the  kingdom  to  Caius  Caesar,  per- 
petual dictator  ;  and  that  Caesar  had  refused  to  accept  it." 

Cicero  again  alludes  to  the  killing  of  Caesar: 

The  name  of  peace  is  sweet;  the  thing  itself  is  most  salutary.  But 
between  peace  and  slavery  there  is  a  wide  difference.  Peace  is  liberty 
in  tranquillity ;  slavery  is  the  worst  of  all  evils — to  be  repelled,  if  need 
be,  not  only  by  war,  but  even  by  death.  But  if  those  deliverers  of  ours 
have  taken  themselves  away  out  of  our  sight,  still  they  have  left  behind 
the  example  of  their  conduct.  They  have  done  what  no  one  else  had 
done.  Brutus  pursued  Tarquinius  with  war,  who  was  a  king  when  it 
was  lawful  for  a  king  to  exist  in  Rome.  Spurius  Cassius,  Spurius 
Mselius,  and  Marcus  Manlius  were  all  slain  because  they  were  suspected 
of  aiming  at  regal  power.  These  are  the  first  men  who  have  ever  vent- 
ured to  attack,  sword  in  hand,  a  man  not  aiming  at  regal  power,  but 
actually  reigning.  And  their  action  is  not  only  of  itself  a  glorious  and 
godlike  exploit,  but  it  is  also  one  put  forth  for  our  imitation  ;  especially 
since  by  it  they  have  acquired  such  glory  as  appears  hardly  to  be 
bounded  by  heaven  itself.  For  although  in  the  very  consciousness  of  a 


222  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

glorious  action  there  is  a  certain  reward,  still  I  do  not  consider  immor- 
tality of  glory  a  thing  to  be  despised  by  one  who  is  himself  mortal. 

Contrasting  Antony  with  Julius  Caesar,  Cicero  says  : 

In  that  man  were  combined  genius,  method,  memory,  literature,  pru- 
dence, deliberation,  and  industry.  He  had  performed  exploits  in  war 
which,  though  calamitous  for  the  republic,  were  nevertheless  mighty 
deeds.  Having  for  many  years  aimed  at  being  a  king,  he  had  with 
great  labor,  and  much  personal  danger,  accomplished  what  he  intended, 
lie  had  conciliated  the  ignorant  multitude  by  presents,  by  monuments, 
by  largesses  of  food,  and  by  banquets  ;  he  had  bound  his  own  party  to 
him  by  rewards,  his  adversaries  by  the  appearances  of  clemency.  Why 
need  I  say  much  on  such  a  subject?  He  had  already  brought  a  free 
city,  partly  by  fear,  partly  by  patience,  into  a  habit  of  slavery. 

With  him  I  can,  indeed,  compare  you  as  to  your  desire  to  reign  ;  but 
in  all  other  respects  you  are  in  no  degree  to  be  compared  to  him. 
But  from  the  many  evils  which  by  him  have  been  burned  into  the  re- 
public there  is  still  this  good,  that  the  Roman  people  has  now  learned 
how  much  to  believe  every  one,  to  whom  to  trust  itself,  and  against 
whom  to  guard.  Do  you  never  think  on  these  things?  And  do  you 
not  understand  that  it  is  enough  for  brave  men  to  have  learned  how  no- 
ble a  thing  it  is  as  to  the  act,  how  grateful  it  is  as  to  the  benefit  done, 
how  glorious  as  to  the  fame  acquired,  to  slay  a  tyrant?  When  men 
could  not  bear  him,  do  you  think  they  will  bear  you  ?  Believe  me,  the 
time  will  come  when  men  will  race  with  one  another  to  do  this  deed, 
and  when  no  one  will  wait  for  the  tardy  arrival  of  an  opportunity. 

Consider,  I  beg  you,  Marcus  Antonius,  do  some  time  or  other  con- 
sider the  republic  :  think  of  the  family  of  which  you  are  born,  not  of 
the  men  with  whom  you  are  living.  Be  reconciled  to  the  republic. 
However,  do  you  decide  on  your  conduct.  As  to  mine,  I  myself  will 
declare  what  that  shall  be.  I  defended  the  republic  as  a  young  man  ;  I 
will  not  abandon  it  now  when  I  am  old.  I  scorned  the  sword  of  Cati- 
line; I  will  not  quail  before  yours.  No,  I  will  rather  cheerfully  expose 
my  own  person,  if  the  liberty  of  the  city  can  be  restored  by  my  death. 

May  the  indignation  of  the  Roman  people  at  last  bring  forth  what  it  has 
been  so  long  laboring  with.  In  truth,  if  twenty  years  ago  in  this  very  tem- 
ple I  asserted  that  death  could  not  come  prematurely  upon  a  man  of  con- 
sular rank,  with  how  much  more  truth  must  I  now  say  the  same  of  an 
old  man  ?  To  me,  indeed,  O  conscript  fathers,  death  is  now  even  de- 
sirable, after  all  the  honors  which  I  have  gained,  and  the  deeds  which  I 
have  done.  I  only  pray  for  these  two  things  :  One,  that  dying  I  may  leave 


Cicero's  Orations.  223 


the  Roman  people  free.  No  greater  boon  than  this  can  be  granted  me 
by  the  immortal  gods.  The  other,  that  every  one  may  meet  with  a  fate 
suitable  to  his  deserts  and  conduct  toward  the  republic. 

Thus  the  second  philippic  of  Cicero  ends.  And  with  this 
selection  of  extracts  ends  our  imperfect  presentation  to  our 
readers  of  Cicero  the  orator. 

By  way  of  general  retrospect  and  appreciation,  see  what 
our  own  great  jurist  and  orator,  Rufus  Choate,  says  of  Cicero 
and  of  Cicero's  philippics.  Mr.  Choate  is  speaking  on  the 
general  subject  of  "  The  Eloquence  of  Revolutionary  Pe- 
riods." The  allusion  to  Cicero  comes  in  as  an  important 
illustration  of  the  orator's  theme.  Mr.  Choate,  in  our  cita- 
tion, begins  with  presenting  a  useful  foil  of  contrast  to 
Cicero  in  the  person  and  character  of  Julius  Caesar: 

"  Easy  is  it  and  tempting  for  the  Merivales  and  Congreves 
(I  am  sorry  to  see  De  Quincey  in  such  company)  to  say  the 
senate  and  people  of  Rome  were  unfit  to  rule  the  world  they 
had  overrun ;  and,  therefore,  it  was  needful  for  an  emperor 
and  his  guard  and  his  legions  to  step  in ;  easy  and  tempting 
is  such  a  speculation,  because  nobody  can  disprove  it,  and 
it  sounds  of  philosophy,  seems  to  be  new.  .  .  . 

"  How  soothing  and  elevating  to  turn  from  such  philoso- 
phy, falsely  so  called,  to  the  grand  and  stirring  music  of  that 
eloquence — those  last  fourteen  pleadings  of  Cicero,  [the 
philippics,]  which  he  who  has  not  studied  knows  nothing  of 
the  orator,  nothing  of  the  patriot — in  which  the  Roman  lib- 
erty breathed  its  last.  From  that  purer  eloquence,  from 
that  nobler  orator,  the  great  trial  of  fire  and  blood  through 
which  the  spirit  of  Rome  was  passing  had  burned  and 
purged  away  all  things  light,  all  things  gross ;  the  purple  robe, 
the  superb  attitude  and  action,  the  splendid  commonplaces 
of  a  festal  rhetoric,  are  all  laid  by;  the  ungraceful,  occa- 
sional vanity  of  adulation,  the  elaborate  speech  of  the  abun- 
dant, happy  mind,  at  its  ease,  all  disappear;  and,  instead, 
what  directness,  what  plainness,  what  rapidity,  what  fire, 


224  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

what  abnegation  of  himself,  what  disdain,  what  hate  of 
the  usurper  and  the  usurpation,  what  grand,  swelling  senti- 
ments, what  fine  raptures  of  liberty,  roll  and  revel  there  ! 
How  there  rise  above  and  from  out  that  impetuous  torrent  of 
speech,  rushing  fervidly,  audibly,  distinctly,  between  the 
peals  of  that  thunder  with  which,  like  a  guardian  divinity, 
he  seems  to  keep  the  senate-house,  and  the  forum  where  the 
people  assembled,  unprofaned  by  the  impending  tyranny — 
how  there  rise,  here  and  there,  those  tones,  so  sweet,  so 
mournful,  boding,  and  prophetic  of  the  end  !  .  .  .  The  alter- 
native of  his  own  certain  death,  if  the  republic  fell  resisting 
— what  pathos,  what  dignity,  what  sincerity,  what  merit  in- 
trinsical,  it  gives  to  his  brave  counsels  of  resistance  !  "  [Mr. 
Choate  at  this  point  enters  without  notice  upon  a  magnifi- 
cent version,  his  own,  no  doubt,  of  a  representative  passage 
of  Cicero's  patriot  oratory,  as  follows :] 

Lay  hold  on  this  opportunity  of  our  salvation,  conscript  fathers — by  the 
immortal  gods  I  conjure  you  ! — and  remember  that  you  are  the  foremost 
men  here,  in  the  council-chamber  of  the  whole  earth.  Give  one  sign 
to  the  Roman  people  that  even  as  now  they  pledge  their  valor,  so  you 
pledge  your  wisdom  to  the  crisis  of  the  state.  But  what  need  that  I 
exhort  you  ?  Is  there  one  so  insensate  as  not  to  understand  that  if  we 
sleep  over  an  occasion  such  as  this,  it  is  ours  to  bow  our  necks  to  a 
tyranny  not  proud  and  cruel  only,  but  ignominous — but  sinful?  Do  ye 
not  know  this  Antony  ?  Do  ye  not  know  his  companions  ?  Do  ye  not 
know  his  whole  house  —  insolent, —  impure, —  gamesters, —  drunkards? 
To  be  slaves  to  such  as  he,  to  such  as  these,  were  it  not  the  fullest 
measure  of  misery,  conjoined  with  the  fullest  measure  of  disgrace  ?  If 
it  be  so — may  the  gods  avert  the  omen — that  the  supreme  hour  of  the 
republic  has  come,  let  us,  the  rulers  of  the  world,  rather  fall  with  honor, 
than  serve  with  infamy  !  Born  to  glory  and  to  liberty,  let  us  hold  these 
bright  distinctions  fast,  or  let  us  greatly  die  !  Be  it,  Romans,  our  first 
resolve  to  strike  do\vm  the  tyrant  and  the  tyranny.  Be  it  our  second  to 
endure  all  things  for  the  honor  and  liberty  of  our  country.  To  submit 
to  infamy  for  the  love  of  life  can  never  come  within  the  contemplation 
of  a  Roman  soul  !  For  you,  the  people  of  Rome — you,  whom  the  gods 
have  appointed  to  rule  the  world — for  you  to  own  a  master  is  impious. 


Cicero's  Orations.  221 


You  are  in  the  last  crisis  of  nations.  To  be  free  or  to  be  slaves — that 
is  the  question  of  the  hour.  By  every  obligation  of  man  or  states  it 
behooves  you  in  this  extremity  to  conquer — as  your  devotion  to  the  gods 
and  your  concord  among  yourselves  encourage  you  to  hope — or  to  bear 
all  things  but  slavery.  Other  nations  may  bend  to  servitude  ;  the  birth- 
right and  the  distinction  of  the  people  of  Rome  is  liberty. 

The  rendering  which  Choate  thus  gives  of  a  passage  of 
Cicero  may  serve  to  show  what  a  different  power  there  is  in 
Cicero's  eloquence  according  as  he  is  translated  or  not  by  a 
man  with  the  sense  in  him,  and  the  capacity,  of  style. 


VIII. 

VIRGIL. 

NEXT  to  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  and  hardly  second  to  that, 
the  /Eneid  of  Virgil  is  the  most  famous  of  poems.  The 
two  poems,  like  the  two  poets,  are  joined  forever  in  an  in- 
separable comparison,  contrast,  and  fellowship  of  fame.  It 
would,  however,  be  right  that  Homer's  Odyssey,  not  less  than 
his  Iliad,  should  be  associated  in  thought  with  the  ^Eneid  of 
Virgil.  For  the  yEneid  partakes  quite  as  much  of  the 
character  of  the  Odyssey,  as  it  does  of  the  character  of  the 
Iliad.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  composite  reproduction  of  both  those 
poems,  Virgil's  poetic  invention  consisting  rather  in  a  cun- 
ning of  composition  and  harmony  to  blend  the  Iliad  and  the 
Odyssey  into  one  new  whole,  an  authentic  creation  of  the 
Roman  poet's  proper  genius — Virgil's  invention,  we  say, 
consisting  rather  in  this,  than  in  power  to  produce  really 
original  material  of  his  own. 

But  though  thus  there  is  little  in  the  ^Eneid  that  was  not  first 
in  either  the  Odyssey  or  the  Iliad,  still,  Virgil  is  no  plagiarist, 
and  he  is  no  mere  copyist.  He  is  a  great  individual  poet, 

to  whom  Homer  was  as  the  rest  of  the  universe,  namely,  a 
10* 


226 


Preparatory  Latin  Coitrse  in  English. 


vast  free  treasure-house  of  material  and  resource  for  Ins 
work.  He  went  to  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  for  what  he 
wanted  ;  but  he,  in  doing  so,  no  more  conceived  of  himself  as 
purloining  from  Homer,  or  even  as  dependently  and  slavishly 
copying  Homer,  than  he  would  have  conceived  of  himself  as 
unworthily  subservient,  in  a  similar  relation,  to  Nature  her- 


VIRGIL. 

self,  or  to  the  history  of  mankind,  if  he  had  from  these 
sources  alone  drawn  all  his  matter  and  all  his  inspiration. 
Homer  was  already  to  Virgil  a  far-off,  half-impersonal  poet, 
hardly  more  than  a  name,  to  whom  there  could  be  no  rela- 
tion of  debt  worth  considering,  and  whose  works  were  so 
much  a  universal  volume  of  poetry  that  to  take  from  him 


Virgil.  22? 

what  you  needed  for  your  verse  was  a  quite  unquestiona- 
ble matter  of  course.  The  present  writer  remembers  once 
seeing  Mr.  Charles  Sumner  taken  seriously  to  task  for  pla- 
giarizing from  Demosthenes;  because,  forsooth,  in  that  fond- 
ness for  classic  tincture  to  his  style  which  was  an  infirmity 
with  this  New  England  rhetorican,  he  introduced,  in  a  sena- 
torial speech  of  his,  an  elaborate  adaptation  of  one  of  the 
most  famous  passages  of  the  Greek's  great  Oration  for  the 
Crown.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Sumner  was  in  this  so  far  from 
being  conscious  to  himself  of  any  dishonorable  conveyance  of 
the  Demosthenean  eloquence,  that  it  would  have  disappointed 
him  rather  not  to  have  his  literary  art,  in  the  use  he  thus 
made  of  his  Greek,  recognized  by  his  hearers  or  his  readers. 
Just  so  an  Homeric  story  in  Virgil  was  a  thing  for  the  Roman 
poet  not  to  be  ashamed  of,  but  to  be  proud  of.  The  portrait- 
painter  Stuart  would  as  soon  have  been  mortified  to  be  told 
concerning  a  picture  of  his,  "Why,  that  is  Washington,"  as 
would  have  been  Virgil,  to  be  told,  "Why,  you  got  that  from 
Homer."  In  either  case  the  artist  would  have  smiled,  and 
said,  "  I  am  glad  you  think  it  is  like." 

The  literary  history  of  the  ^ineid  is  remarkable.  There 
has  happened  no  parenthesis  of  neglect  in  the  long  sentence 
of  study  and  approval  which  posterity  has  pronounced  upon 
his  genius  and  his  fame.  There  was  a  time  when  Homer 
was  forgotten,  to  be  afterward  revived  in  recollection,  with 
the  revival  of  Greek  letters.  But  Virgil,  if,  during  the  ages 
which  we  call  dark,  he  was  not  a  poet  to  men,  was  in  com- 
pensation a  magician.  A  kind  of  unconscious  blind  poetry 
it  was  in  itself,  this  mediaeval  metamorphosis  of  Virgil  into  a 
magician  from  a  poet.  For  is  not  the  poet — any  poet,  we 
mean — poetically  conceived,  a  true  magician  ?  The  most 
marvelous  feats  of  magic  were  attributed  to  the  power  of 
Virgil.  He  was  said  to  have  built  at  Rome  for  Augustus, 
his  imperial  patron,  a  tower  furnished  with  figures  emblem- 
atic of  the  imperial  provinces,  each  figure  holding  in  its 


22<S  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


hand  a  bell  that  would  strike  a  spontaneous  alarm  whenever 
a  revolt  occurred  in  the  province  to  which  that  particular 
figure  appertained.  This  magical  tower  contained,  besides,  a 
mirror  that  would  do  for  the  eye  what  the  bells  did  for  the 
ear — it  would  show  an  image  of  the  enemies  of  Rome,  just  as 
they  appeared  at  any  time  in  hostile  array  against  the  empire. 
Another  mirror  was  more  magical  still.  This  mirror  would 
reveal  in  reflection  the  secret  guilt  of  any  citizen  of  Rome. 
There  are  many  other  curious  mediaeval  legends  of  Virgilius 
the  magician.  Perhaps  Virgil  himself  is  responsible  for  the 
transformation  which  popular  superstition  thus  caused  him 
to  undergo.  There  is  in  one  of  his  minor  poems  a  mention 
made  of  magical  arts — sufficient,  perhaps,  to  become  the 
fruitful  germ  of  suggestion.  The  poem  referred  to  is  the 
eighth  pastoral,  and  the  magical  arts  consist  of  the  repeated 
spells  furnished  by  an  enchantress  to  win  the  heart  of  a 
reluctant  lover. 

The  history  of  Virgil's  poetry  is  in  great  part  the  history 
of  a  singularly  potent  literary  influence.  Almost  all  readers 
know  something  of  the  relation  between  Virgil  and  Dante. 
The  Florentine  poet  makes  Virgil  serve  him  as  guide  and 
master  through  all  that  strange  imaginative  experience  of  his 
in  visiting  hell  and  purgatory  which  he  describes  in  his 
Inferno  and  Purgatorio — the  first  two  parts  of  the  "  Divina 
Commedia."  Dante  stood  in  time  close  upon  the  hither  con- 
fines of  the  Dark  Ages.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  absurd  to  imagine, 
that  it  was  scarcely  less  Virgil's  capacity  of  magician,  than 
his  capacity  of  poet,  that  first  suggested  to  Dante  his  selec- 
tion of  Virgil  as  of  all  men  the  man  to  conduct  and  instruct 
amid  the  mysteries  of  the  unseen  world.  The  honor  is  well- 
nigh,  if  not  quite,  unique,  that  Virgil  enjoys  in  being  looked 
up  to  as  superior  by  a  genius  that  certainly  was  superior  to 
him.  For  Dante's  order  of  mind  was  loftier  than  was  that  of 
Virgil.  It  is  Virgil's  good  fortune,  not  less  than  it  is  his 
merit,  that  he  is  so  safely  and  so  universally  famous.  Or 


Virgil.  229 

possibly  his  fame  belongs  in  part  to  the  man  as  distinct  from 
the  poet.  For  Virgil  had  what  has  been  called  the  genius 
to  be  loved. 

This  simple  fact  about  his  character,  that  he  was  lovable, 
together  with  the  complementary  fact  about  his  life,  that  he 
was  loved,  is  the  most  important  thing  that  we  know  of 
Virgil  the  man.  He  was  born  (70  B.C.)  a  country  boy  in 
the  hamlet  of  Andes,  (Northern  Italy,)  near  Mantua,  whence 
"  the  Mantuan  "  has  become  a  designation  for  him.  (Mr.  Col- 
lins, editor  of  the  Ancient  Classics  for  English  Readers,  a 
series  of  books  often  praised  in  these  pages,  has  himself  pre- 
pared the  volume  on  Virgil.  It  is  curious,  unaccountable 
indeed,  that  this  careful  writer  should  have  suffered  himself 
to  say  concerning  Virgil,  that  "  the  emperor  under  whom  he 
was  born  was  that  Octavianus  Caesar,  nephew  of  the  great 
Julius,  whose  title  of  'Augustus,'  "  etc. — the  fact  being  that 
Virgil  was  born  seven  years  before  even  the  birth  of  Augustus 
Caesar.  Another  strange  slip  is  Mr.  Collins's  allusion  to  cer- 
tain "  legionaries  who  had  fought  for  Antony  and  young 
Octavianus  against  Pompey."  There  was,  of  course,  no  fight- 
ing done  for  "Antony  and  young  Octavianus,"  until  after 
the  death  of  Julius  Csesar;  and  before  the  death  of  Julius 
Caesar,  Pompey  himself  had  been  murdered.  The  fighting 
referred  to,  therefore,  could  not  have  been  against  Pompey. 
It  is  hard  for  any  writer  to  commit  himself  in  unnumbered 
statements  of  fact  and  never  go  wrong.)  Virgil  grew  to 
early  manhood  in  the  rustic  region  of  his  birth.  His  little 
farm  was  not  little  enough  to  escape  confiscation  when  the 
discharged  legionaries  of  Octavius  (Augustus)  were  to  be 
furnished  with  settlements  of  land  to  keep  them  quiet  and 
contented.  Virgil  had  already  won  some  friend  at  court 
who  now  proved  influential  enough  to  get  back  again  for  him, 
from  the  grace  of  Augustus,  his  confiscated  patrimony.  No 
wonder  the  grateful  poet  felt  like  praising  his  imperial  pa- 
tron in  verse  ;  and  the  interceding  friend,  Pollio,  if  Pollio 


230  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

was  he,  is  made  securely  immortal  in  recompense  of  his 
service.  For,  as  Milton  sings  it  of  himself — with  noble  ego- 
tism justified  by  both  the  genius  and  the  character  of  the 
singer — so  Virgil,  too,  might  have  sung: 

He  can  requite  thee,  for  he  knows  the  charms 
That  call  fame  on  such  gentle  acts  as  these, 
And  he  can  spread  thy  name  o'er  lands  and  seas, 

Whatever  clime  the  sun's  bright  circle  warms. 

The  most  celebrated  of  all  Virgil's  minor  poems  is  known 
by  the  name  of  Pollio,  supposed  to  have  been  the  poet's 
friend  in  need. 

It  shows  the  terms  on  which  victorious  Roman  emperors 
held  their  empire,  that  Virgil,  bringing  back  from  Rome  an 
imperial  edict  that  authorized  him  to  recover  his  farm,  was 
resisted  by  the  soldier  occupant,  and  obliged  to  swim  the 
Mincius  to  save  his  life.  A  second  visit  of  Virgil  to  Rome 
in  prosecution  of  his  right  resulted  in  his  becoming  a 
resident  of  that  city.  Not  improbably  Augustus  found 
it  more  convenient  to  give  his  grace  to  Virgil  some  other 
form  of  bounty,  than  the  restoration  of  that  farm  en- 
forced against  the  turbulent  protest  of  his  disappointed 
legionary. 

There  is  a  pretty  story  told  of  Virgil's  composing  a  couplet 
of  verses  in  praise  of  the  emperor,  and  posting  them  secretly 
and  anonymously  on  the  palace  gate.  Augustus,  having  had 
the  good  taste  to  be  pleased  with  the  lines,  made  an  effort  to 
discover  the  author.  Virgil's  modesty  kept  him  in  the  back- 
ground, until  some  unscrupulous  fellow  thought  it  safe  to  claim 
the  verses  for  his  own.  The  impostor  was  handsomely  re- 
warded. Virgil  at  this  was  so  much  vexed  that  he  took 
measures  to  redress  himself.  With  all  his  modesty  and  all 
his  genius,  Virgil  seems  not  to  have  wanted  a  certain  thrifty 
knack  for  making  his  way  in  the  world.  His  present  con- 
trivance, however,  was  the  contrivance  of  a  poet,  as  well  as 


Virgil.  231 

of  a  man  of  sense.  Under  the  original  distich  he  wrote  an 
additional  verse,  running 

I  made  these  lines,  another  took  the  praise, 

together  with  the  first  words  of  a  verse  to  follow — which 
same  first  words  were  written  four  times,  in  form  and  order 
as  if  beginning  four  successive  verses  purposely  left  unfin- 
ished. Here  was  a  puzzle  and  a  mystery.  Augustus  con- 
descended to  require  that  the  lines  should  be  completed. 
Several  attempts  to  complete  them  ignominiously  failed. 
Virgil  at  last  revealed  himself  as  the  author,  and  finished  the 
lines.  They  read  as  follows  : 

Thus  you  not  for  yourselves  build  nests,  O  birds  ; 
Thus  you  not  for  yourselves  bear  fleeces,  flocks  ; 
Thus  you  not  for  yourselves  make  honey,  bees  ; 
Thus  you  not  for  yourselves  draw  plows,  O  oxen. 

The  neat  symmetrical  look  of  the  verses  is  necessarily  lost 
in  an  English  rendering.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  for- 
tune of  the  poet  was  made. 

Virgil  is  said  to  have  been  shy,  awkward,  retiring  in  so- 
ciety. He  and  the  poet  Horace  were  excellent  friends,  but 
that  did  not  prevent  so  accomplished  a  man  of  the  world  as 
Horace  from  appreciating  the  country  effect  of  Virgil  in  a 
drawing-room.  It  is  guessed  that  Horace  alludes  loyally  to 
this  in  one  of  his  satires,  where,  without  naming  any  one,  he 
praises  a  friend  of  his  for  the  worth  disguised  by  him  under 
an  uncouth  exterior. 

Virgil  was,  it  is  believed,  a  man  of  exceptionally  pure  life, 
for  a  Roman  of  his  time.  His  poetry  agrees  with  this  esti- 
mate of  his  morals.  Toward  the  close  of  his  life,  he  lived 
chiefly  at  Naples,  Par-then'-o-pe,  as  it  used  to  be  called. 
(Wordsworth,  in  his  magnificent  sonnet  of  farewell  and  god- 
speed to  Sir  Walter  Scott  starting  on  his  last  melancholy 
voyage  to  Italy  for  his  health,  finely  used  the  name  Parthen- 
ope  to  close  the  closing  line  of  the  poem.)  He  ended  his 


232  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in   English. 

peaceful  and  prosperous  life  in  his  fifty-first  year,  a  very  well- 
to-do  man.  He  was  buried,  according  to  Roman  custom,  by 
the  wayside.  They  still  point  out  the  spot  to  the  tourist.  It 
lies  on  the  road  leading  to  Pu-te'o-li,  out  from  Naples. 

Virgil's  works  consist  of  three  classes  of  poems.  The  or- 
der of  production  must  be  exactly  inverted  to  give  the  order 
of  comparative  importance.  That  is,  Virgil's  poetic  achieve- 
ment formed  a  regular  climax  to  its  close.  He  was  still, 
after  finishing  the  ^Eneid,  younger  than  Milton  was  when 
he  began  his  Paradise  Lost.  Finishing,  we  say ;  but,  accord- 
ing to  the  poet's  own  standard,  the  y£neid  never  was  fin- 
ished. It  is  even  reported  that  one  of  his  parting  directions 
was  to  have  his  manuscript  of  the  poem  burned.  Augustus 
intervened  to  prevent  the  act  of  destruction.  The  text 
exhibits  here  and  there  an  unfinished  line.  In  short,  the 
artist's  last  touches  the  poem  never  received ;  but  the  most 
of  the  poem  is  in  a  state  requring  from  the  artist  no  last 
touches  to  improve  it. 

We  had  better  let  our  own  order  of  treatment  follow 
Virgil's  order  of  production.  Take  notice,  however,  kind 
reader,  that  the  average  course  of  preparation  for  college  in- 
cludes from  Virgil  only  about  six  books  of  the  ^Eneid.  What, 
therefore,  we  give  of  the  other  poetry  of  Virgil  will  be  so 
much  over  and  above.  First,  then,  of  Virgil's  pastoral 
poems. 

These  are  called  sometimes  bucolics,  (Greek  for  "  pas- 
torals," which  latter  term  is  Latin,)  and  sometimes  eclogues, 
(Greek  for  "select  pieces.")  There  are  in  all  ten  eclogues 
of  Virgil  now  extant.  They  vary  somewhat  in  length,  aver- 
aging about  eighty  lines  each.  They  are  written  in  the 
same  meter  as  that  of  the  ^Eneid,  dactylic  hexameter.  The 
idea  of  such  poems  is  derived  from  a  Greek  original.  The- 
ocritus in  particular  was  Virgil's  master  in  this  species  of 
composition.  The  pupil,  however,  puts  into  some  of  his 
eclogues  what  he  found  no  hint  of  anywhere  in  his  master. 


Virgil.  233 

This  is  pre-eminently  the  case  with  the  "Pollio,"  so  called, 
which  we  shall  by  and  by  present  in  full. 

In  general,  the  eclogues  presuppose  a  Utopian  pastoral 
life ;  that  is,  a  life  such  as  never  really  existed  anywhere,  cer- 
tainly not  in  Italy.  The  scenery  and  the  circumstance  are 
made  up  partly  from  the  Greek  Arcadia,  partly  from  rural 
Italy,  but  chiefly  from  the  poet's  imagination.  Shepherds, 
cultivated  in  music  and  poetry,  tend  their  flocks  and  spend 
their  time  alternately  in  love-making  and  in  matches  of  verse 
or  of  song.  Grant  the  poet  his  world,  which  never  was, 
which,  indeed,  never  could  be,  and  his  poetry  is  fine.  Virgil 
contrives  to  weave  into  his  verse  some  compliments,  sincere, 
no  doubt,  but  thrifty  all  the  same,  to  his  friends,  especially  to 
his  imperial  friend,  Augustus.  We  will  be  frank  with  our 
readers,  and  fairly  tell  them  that  they  would  not  be  greatly 
interested  in  Virgil's  eclogues  spread  out  before  them  at 
any  considerable  length.  They  are  highly  artificial  literary 
forms,  dependent  for  currency  upon  temporary  and  local 
vogue.  And  the  vogue,  at  least  among  us,  has  passed,  for 
such  poems  as  these.  Tennyson's  pastorals,  the  "  Gardener's 
Daughter,"  for  instance,  are  intrinsically  far  more  interesting, 
and  far  more  valuable,  as  far  more  genuine,  than  Virgil's 
eclogues.  Still,  interested  or  not  in  these  productions  for 
their  own  sake,  you  will  certainly  be  interested  in  them  as 
celebrated  pieces  of  literature. 

The  most  celebrated  among  them  all  is,  as  we  have  said, 
the  "  Pollio,"  but  that  happens  to  be  also  the  piece  least 
truly  pastoral  in  its  quality.  However — nay,  for  that  very 
reason — it  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  highly  characteristic, 
not,  to  be  sure,  of  the  eclogues  as  bucolics,  but  of  the 
eclogues  as  purely  conventional  productions  of  an  artificial 
age,  and  of  a  true  poet  rendered  artificial  by  the  influences 
surrounding  him. 

Our  readers  would  find  pleasure  in  comparing  with  Vir- 
gil's eclogues  some  imitative  pastorals  written  by  Pope  at 


234  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

sixteen  years  of  age.  These  are  marvels  of  precocious  fa- 
cility in  verse. 

The  fourth  pastoral,  or  the  "  Pollio,"  has  for  ostensible 
subject  the  birth  of  a  marvelous  boy,  variously  supposed  to 
be  son  of  Antony,  son  of  Pollio,  son  of  Augustus — even,  by  re- 
trospective license  on  the  poet's  part,  to  be  Augustus  himself. 
The  terms  of  allusion  to  this  offspring,  and  of  description  of  a 
blessed  state  of  things  to  accompany  and  follow  his  birth,  are, 
at  points,  singularly  coincident  with  prophecies  of  Holy  Writ 
concerning  Jesus.  The  date  of  the  poem  is  startlingly  near 
that  of  the  nativity  of  our  Saviour.  One  can  easily  conceive 
in  reading  it  that  we  have  here  an  articulate  utterance  of  the 
unconscious  desire  of  all  nations  for  a  Redeemer.  In  it,  the 
Sibyl  is  spoken  of  by  Virgil  as  having  foretold  this  happy 
age.  Fragments  still  exist  alleged  to  be  authentic  parts  of 
the  Sibylline  oracles.  But  we  cannot  be  sure.  Those  or- 
acles, whatever  they  originally  were,  have  been  tampered 
with,  for  reasons  of  state  and  of  church,  until  nothing  of 
them  remains  that  is  unquestionably  genuine.  That  old 
Latin  hymn,  so  familiar  to  us  all,  the  Dies  Iras,  has  a  line, 
Teste  David  cum  Sibylla, 

— David,  along  with  the  Sibyl,  bearing  witness — which  keeps 
the  idea  of  a  Sibylline  prophecy  concerning  Jesus  fresh  in 
modern  recollection.  Cuma  was  the  Sibyl's  dwelling-place. 

Here,  then,  is  Virgil's  "  Pollio."  We  use  the  prose  trans- 
lation of  Professor  Conington,  of  whose  fruitful  labors  on 
Virgil  we  shall  hereafter  speak.  The  Muses  of  Sicily,  you 
will  observe,  are  invoked.  Virgil  thus  acknowledges,  or 
rather  proclaims,  that  he  derives  his  pastoral  verse  from 
Theocritus,  a  Sicilian  Greek,  of  Syracuse: 

POLLIO. 

Muses  of  Sicily,  let  us  strike  a  somewhat  louder  chord.  It  is  not  for 
all  that  plantations  have  charms,  or  groundling  tamarisks.  If  we  are  to 
sing  of  the  woodland,  let  the  woodland  rise  to  a  consul's  dignity. 


Virgil.  235 

The  last  era  of  the  song  of  Cuma  has  come  at  length  :  the  grand  file 
of  the  ages  is  being  born  anew  ;  at  length  the  virgin  is  returning  to  the 
reign  of  Saturn ;  at  length  a  new  generation  is  descending  from  heaven 
on  high.  Do  but  t.hou  smile  thy  pure  smile  on  the  birth  of  the  boy  who 
shall  at  last  bring  the  race  of  iron  to  an  end,  and  bid  the  golden  race 
spring  up  all  the  world  over — thou  Lucina — thine  own  Apollo  is  at 
lengthen  his  throne.  In  thy  consulship  it  is — in  thine,  Pollio — that  this 
glorious  time  shall  come  on,  and  the  mighty  months  begin  their  march. 
Under  thy  conduct,  any  remaining  trace  of  our  national  guilt  shall  be- 
come void,  and  release  the  world  from  the  thraldom  of  peqietual  fear. 
He  shall  have  the  life  of  the  gods  conferred  on  him,  and  shall  see  gods 
and  heroes  mixing  together,  and  shall  himself  be  seen  of  them,  and  with 
his  father's  virtues  shall  govern  a  world  at  peace. 

For  thee,  sweet  boy,  the  earth,  of  her  own  unforced  will,  shall  pour 
forth  a  child's  first  presents — gadding  ivy  and  foxglove  everywhere, 
and  Egyptian  bean  blending  with  the  bright  smiling  acanthus.  Of 
themselves,  the  goats  shall  carry  home  udders  distended  with  milk  ; 
nor  shall  the  herds  fear  huge  lions  in  the  way.  Of  itself,  thy  grassy 
cradle  shall  pour  out  flowers  to  caress  thee.  Death  to  the  serpent, 
and  to  the  treacherous  plant  of  poisoned  juice.  Assyrian  spices  shall 
spring  up  by  the  wayside. 

But  soon  as  thou  shalt  be  of  an  age  to  read  at  length  of  the  glories  of 
heroes  and  thy  father's  deeds,  and  to  acquaint  thyself  with  the  nature  of 
manly  work,  the  yellow  of  the  waving  corn  shall  steal  gradually  over 
the  plain,  and  from  briers,  that  know  naught  of  culture,  grapes  shall 
hang  in  purple  clusters,  and  the  stubborn  heart  of  oak  shall  exude  dews  of 
honey.  Still,  under  all  this  show,  some  few  traces  shall  remain  of  the  sin 
and  guile  of  old — such  as  may  prompt  men  to  defy  the  ocean  goddess 
with  their  ships,  to  build  towns  with  walls  around  them,  to  cleave  furrows 
in  the  soil  of  earth.  A  second  Tiphys  shall  there  be  in  those  days — a 
second  Argo  to  convey  the  flower  of  chivalry  ;  a  second  war  of  heroes, 
too,  shall  there  be,  and  a  second  time  shall  Achilles  be  sent  in  his  great- 
ness to  Troy. 

Afterward,  when  ripe  years  have  at  length  made  thee  man,  even  the 
peaceful  sailor  shall  leave  the  sea,  nor  shall  the  good  ship  of  pine  ex- 
change merchandise — all  lands  shall  produce  all  things,  the  ground 
shall  not  feel  the  harrow,  nor  the  vineyard  the  pruning-hook  ;  the  sturdy 
plowman,  too,  shall  at  length  set  his  bullocks  free  from  the  yoke  ; 
nor  shall  wool  be  taught  to  counterfeit  varied  hues,  but  of  himself,  as  he 
feeds  in  the  meadows,  the  ram  shall  transform  his  fleece,  now  into  a 
lovely  purple  dye,  now  into  saffron-yellow — of  its  own  will,  scarlet  shall 


236  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

clothe  the  lambs  as  they  graze.  Ages  like  these,  flow  on  ! — so  cried  to 
their  spindles  the  Fates,  uttering  in  concert  the  fixed  will  of  destiny. 

Assume  thine  august  dignities — the  time  is  at  length  at  hand — thou 
best-loved  offspring  of  the  gods,  august  scion  of  Jove  !  Look  upon  the 
world  as  it  totters  beneath  the  mass  of  its  overhanging  dome — earth  and 
the  expanse  of  sea  and  the  deep  of  heaven — look  how  all  are  rejoic- 
ing in  the  age  that  is  to  be  !  O  may  my  life's  last  days  last  long  enough, 
and  breath  be  granted  me  enough  to  tell  of  thy  deeds  !  I  will  be  o'er- 
matched  in  song  by  none — not  by  Orpheus  of  Thrace,  nor  by  Linus 
though  that  were  backed  by  his  mother,  and  this  by  his  father — Or'pheus 
by  Cal-li'o-pe,  Linus  by  Apollo  in  his  beauty.  Were  Pan  himself,  with 
Arcady  looking  on,  to  enter  the  lists  with  me,  Pan  himself,  with  Arcady 
looking  on,  should  own  himself  vanquished. 

Begin,  sweet  child,  with  a  smile,  to  take  notice  of  thy  mother.  .  .  . 

There  is  a  famous  parallel,  or  paraphrase,  or  imitation, 
of  the  "  Pollio,"  written  in  English  heroics  by  Pope. 
This  intentional  and  avowed  imitation  has  the  express  pur- 
pose to  point  out  the  resemblances,  so  interesting  to  the 
modern  and  Christian  reader,  between  the  profane  poet 
Virgil,  and  the  sacred  prophet  Isaiah.  Pope  accompanies 
his  poem  (originally  published  in  Addison's  "Spectator") 
with  entertaining  and  instructive  commentary,  which  readers 
having  access  to  it  would  do  well  to  examine.  Pope's  title 
is,  "  Messiah,  a  Sacred  Eclogue.  In  imitation  of  Virgil's 
Pollio," 

In  the  Georgics,  we  have  a  poem  on  farming.  The  title 
itself,  Georgics,  means  farming,  from  ge  (Greek  for  '  earth,' 
appearing  in  geography,  geology,  geometry)  and  ergo,  (an  old 
Greek  root,  meaning  'work.')  The  object  of  the  poem  was  to 
encourage  agricultural  pursuits.  Augustus  desired  that  the 
empire  should  be  peace,  and  he  wanted  to  see  every  sword 
turned  into  a  sickle — that  is,  every  sword  but  his  own.  It  is 
doubtful  if  Virgil's  Georgics  ever  made  many  men  farmers, 
or  made  many  farmers  better  farmers  than  they  were  before. 
The  theory  and  practice  of  farming  exhibited  are  hardly  up 
to  the  mark  of  the  present  scientific  times.  Quite  probably, 


Virgil.  237 

too,  the  farmers  of  Virgil's  own  day  might  have  criticised 
the  poet's  suggestions  at  points.  However,  there  is  much 
good  sense  in  the  poem,  mingled  with  much  superstition. 
The  tenor  of  didactics  is  pleasantly  interrupted  by  occasional 
episode. 

The  Georgics  are  divided  into  four  books.  (The  verse  is 
dactylic  hexameter.)  The  first  book  treats  of  raising  what 
English  people  call  corn,  and  we  Americans  call  grain,  or, 
in  commercial  dialect,  cereal  crops.  The  second  book  has 
the  culture  of  fruits,  especially  of  the  grape,  for  its  subject. 
The  third  book  deals  with  the  breeding  and  treatment  of 
farm  animals.  The  fourth  book  is  given  up  to  the  topic  of 
the  management  of  bees.  An  aggressive  religious  earnest- 
ness appears  throughout,  animating  the  author,  as  it  were 
out  of  time. 

Virgil,  in  his  Georgics,  as  in  all  his  other  poetry,  follows 
Greek  originals.  Hesiod — in  antiquity  and  in  traditionary 
character,  to  be  associated  with  Homer — has  a  poem,  not  very 
poetical,  entitled  "  Works  and  Days,"  in  which,  after  giving 
a  legendary  account  of  the  history  of  the  earth,  he  proceeds 
to  furnish  farmers  with  practical  suggestions  about  their 
husbandry.  Virgil  draws  from  Hesiod.  To  other  Greek 
authors  Virgil  owes  an  obligation,  the  extent  of  which  it  is  no 
longer  possible  to  estimate.  When  we  come,  in  a  succeed- 
ing volume,  to  speak  of  Lucretius,  it  may  fall  in  our  way  to 
point  out  how  Virgil,  in  the  Georgics,  found  that  philosoph- 
ical Roman  poet  also  an  inspiration  to  his  genius. 

We  give  the  opening  lines,  containing,  first,  what  might  be 
called  the  argument  and  dedication,  and,  secondly,  the  invo- 
cation. We  use  Dryden's  version — iambic  pentameters,  or 
heroics,  varied  from  uniformity  by  triplets,  frequently  re- 
placing couplets,  of  lines,  and  by  Alexandrines  occurring  at 
irregular  intervals,  whether  sometimes  through  defect  of  ear 
in  the  rhymer,  or  always  in  the  exercise  of  conscious  art  on 
his  part,  it  might  be  a  doubtful  matter  to  determine.  The 


238  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

brevity  and  simplicity  of  the  argument,  as  also  of  the  dedi- 
cation, are  admirable  in  the  original.  The  length  and  mul- 
tiplicity, to  say  nothing  of  the  adulatory  blasphemy,  of  the 
invocation,  are  to  be  admired,  if  admired  at  all,  rather  for 
the  ingenuity  which  they  afford  opportunity  to  display,  than 
for  any  merit  of  a  higher  sort  exhibited.  The  idea  of  the 
poet  seems  to  have  been  to  muster  into  his  prayer  as  many 
of  the  national  divinities  as  could  in  any  way  be  associated 
with  farming,  and  then  to  cap  his  climax  with  a  sweetmeat 
of  compliment  to  Augustus  as  large  and  as  rich  as  the  impe- 
rial stomach  could  be  supposed  equal  to  digesting.  Whether 
the  genius  of  the  flatterer  succeeded  in  sating  the  appetite 
of  the  flattered,  our  readers  shall  be  left  to  guess  each  one 
for  himself.  Here  are  the  lines  : 

What  makes  a  plenteous  harvest,  when  to  turn 
The  fruitful  soil,  and  when  to  sow  the  corn  ; 
The  care  of  sheep,  of  oxen,  and  of  kine  ; 
And  how  to  raise  on  elms  the  teeming  vine; 
The  birth  and  genius  of  the  frugal  bee, 
I  sing,  Maecenas,  and  I  sing  to  thee. 

Ye  deities  !  who  fields  and  plains  protect, 
Who  rule  the  seasons,  and  the  year  direct, 
Bacchus  and  fostering  Ceres,  powers  divine, 
Who  gave  us  corn  for  mast,  for  water,  wine — 
Ye  Fauns,  propitious  to  the  rural  swains, 
Ye  Nymphs  that  haunt  the  mountains  and  the  plains, 
Join  in  my  work,  and  to  my  numbers  bring 
Your  needful  succor  ;  for  your  gifts  I  sing. 
And  tliou,  whose  trident  struck  the  teeming  earth, 
And  made  a  passage  for  the  courser's  birth  ; 
And  thou,  for  whom  the  Cean  shore  sustains 
The  milky  herds,  that  graze  the  flowery  plains  ; 
And  thou  the  shepherds'  tutelary  god, 
Leave,  for  a  while,  O  Pan,  thy  loved  abode  ; 
And,  if  Arcadian  fleeces  be  thy  care, 
From  fields  and  mountains  to  my  song  repair. 
Inventor,  Pallas,  of  the  fattening  oil, 
Thou  founder  of  the  plow  and  plowman's  toil ; 
And  thou,  whose  hands  the  shroud-like  cypress  rear, 
Come,  all  ye  gods  and  goddesses,  that  wear 
The  rural  honors,  and  increase  the  year  ; 
You  who  supply  the  ground  with  seeds  of  grain  ; 
And  you,  who  swell  those  seeds  with  kindly  rain  ; 


Virgil.  239 

And  chiefly  thou,  whose  undetermined  state 

Is  yet  the  business  of  the  gods'  debate, 

Whether  in  after  times,  to  be  declared, 

The  patron  of  the  world,  and  Rome's  peculiar  guard, 

Or  o'er  the  fruits  and  seasons  to  preside, 

And  the  round  circuit  of  the  year  to  guide — 

Powerful  of  blessings,  which  thou  strew'st  around, 

And  with  thy  goddess  mother's  myrtle  crowned, 

Or  wilt  thou,  Csesar,  choose  the  watery  reign 

To  smooth  the  surges,  and  correct  the  main  ? 

Then  mariners,  in  storms,  to  thee  shall  pray ; 

E'en  utmost  Thule  shall  thy  power  obey  ; 

And  Neptune  shall  resign  the  fasces  of  the  sea. 

The  watery  virgins  for  thy  bed  shall  strive, 

And  Tethys  all  her  waves  in  dowry  give. 

Or  wilt  thou  bless  our  summers  with  thy  rays, 

And,  seated  near  the  Balance,  poise  the  days, 

Where  in  the  void  of  heaven  a  space  is  free, 

Betwixt  the  Scorpion  and  the  Maid,  for  thee? 

The  Scorpion,  ready  to  receive  thy  laws, 

Yields  half  his  region,  and  contracts  his  claws. 

Whatever  part  of  heaven  thou  shalt  obtain, 

(For  let  not  hell  presume  of  such  a  reign  ; 

Nor  let  so  dire  a  thirst  of  empire  move 

Thy  mind,  to  leave  thy  kindred  gods  above  ; 

Though  Greece  admires  Elysium's  blest  retreat, 

Though  Proserpine  affects  her  silent  scat, 

And,  importuned  by  Ceres  to  remove, 

Prefers  the  fields  below  to  those  above,) 

Be  thou  propitious,  Crcsar  !  guide  iny  course, 

And  to  my  bold  endeavors  add  thy  force  ; 

Pity  the  poet's  and  the  plowman's  cares  ; 

Interest  thy  greatness  in  our  mean  affairs, 

And  use  thyself  betimes  to  hear  and  grant  our  prayers. 

We  go  on  a  few  verses : 

\Vhile  yet  the  spring  is  young,  while  earth  unbinds 
Her  frozen  bosom  to  the  western  winds  ; 
While  mountain  snows  dissolve  against  the  sun, 
And  streams,  yet  new,  from  precipices  run  ; 
E'en  in  this  early  dawning  of  the  year. 
Produce  the  plow,  and  yoke  the  sturdy  steer, 
And  goad  him  till  he  groans  beneath  his  toil, 
Till  the  bright  share  is  buried  in  the  soil. 

These  last  lines,  with  others  to  follow,  Daniel  Webster,  in 
the  spring  preceding  the  autumn  in  which  he  died,  copied 
from  memory,  scarcely  missing  a  word,  in  a  letter  written 


240  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 

from  Washington,  to  his  farmer  in  New  Hampshire.  No 
doubt  the  great  statesman  had  carried  up  the  passage  in 
his  mind,  from  boyhood  to  this  his  seventy-first  year.  The 
characteristic  comments  with  which  he  introduced  and  fol- 
lowed his  quotation  are  interesting: 

"  JOHN  TAYLOR  :  I  am  glad  to  hear  from  you  again,  and 
to  learn  that  you  are  all  well,  and  that  your  teams  and  tools 
are  ready  for  spring's  work,  whenever  the  weather  will 
allow  you  to  begin.  I  sometimes  read  books  on  farming, 
and  I  remember  that  a  very  old  author  advises  farmers  'to 
plow  naked,  and  to  sow  naked.'  By  this  he  means  that 
there  is  no  use  in  beginning  spring's  work  till  the  weather 
is  warm,  that  a  farmer  may  throw  aside  his  winter  clothes, 
and  roll  up  his  sleeves.  Yet  he  says  we  ought  to  begin  as 
early  in  the  year  as  possible.  He  wrote  some  very  pretty 
verses  on  the  subject,  which,  as  far  as  I  remember,  run  thus," — 

Webster,  having  given  the  lines,  proceeds  idiosyncratically  : 

"John  Taylor,  when  you  read  these  lines  do  you  not  see  the 
snow  melting,  and  the  little  streams  beginning  to  run  down 
the  southern  slopes  of  your  Punch  Brook  pasture,  and  the 
new  grass  starting  and  growing  in  the  trickling  water,  all 
green  and  bright  and  beautiful  ?  And  do  you  not  see  your 
Durham  oxen  smoking  from  heat  and  perspiration,  as  they 
draw  along  your  great  breaking-up  plow,  cutting  and  turn- 
ing over  the  tough  sward  in  your  meadow,  in  the  great  fields  ?  " 

We  may  as  well  let  Webster  proceed  a  little  farther,  with 
Virgil's  Georgics  according  to  Dryden  : 

"The  name  [so  Webster  tells  his  farmer]  of  this  sensible 
author  is  Virgil,  and  he  gives  farmers  much  other  advice, 
some  of  which  you  have  been  following  all  this  winter,  with- 
out ever  knowing  that  he  had  given  it : 

But  when  cold  weather,  heavy  snows  and  rain 

The  laboring  farmer  in  his  house  restrain, 

I,ct  him  forecast  his  work  with  timely  care, 

Which  else  is  huddled  when  the  skies  are  fair  ; 

Then  let  him  mark  the  sheep,  and  whet  the  shining  share, 


Virgil.  241 

Or  hollow  trees  for  boats,  or  number  o'er 

His  sacks,  or  measure  his  increasing  store  ; 

Or  sharpen  stakes,  and  mend  each  rack  and  fork; 

So  to  be  ready,  in  good  time  to  work, 

Visit  his  crowded  barns,  at  early  morn, 

Look  to  his  granary  and  shell  his  corn  ; 

Give  a  good  breakfast  to  his  numerous  kine, 

His  shivering  poultry  and  his  fattening  swine." 

The  foregoing  lines  are  in  Webster's  quotation  modified 
to  suit  them  better  to  the  state  of  things  in  New  England. 
Still  greater  freedom  he  uses  in  the  following  passage,  of 
which  he  writes : 

"  And  Mr.  Virgil  says  some  other  things,  which  you  un- 
derstand up  at  Franklin  as  well  as  ever  he  did : 

In  chilling  winter,  swains  enjoy  their  store, 
Forget  their  hardships,  and  recruit  for  more  ; 
The  farmer  to  full  feasts  invites  his  friends, 
And  what  he  got  with  pains,  with  pleasure  spends  ; 
Draws  chairs  around  the  fire,  and  tells  once  more 
Stories  which  often  have  been  told  before  ; 
Spreads  a  clean  table  with  things  good  to  eat, 
And  adds  some  moistening  to  his  fruit  and  meat; 
They  praise  his  hospitality,  and  feel 
They  shall  sleep  better  after  such  a  meal. 

"  John  Taylor,  by  the  time  you  have  got  through  this,  you 
will  have  read  enough. 

"  The  sum  of  all  is,  be  ready  for  your  spring's  work,  as 
soon  as  the  weather  is  warm  enough. 

"  And  then,  put  in  the  plow,  and  turn  not  back. 

"  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 

"  Feasts  "  for  "  bowls,"  in  the  third  line  of  the  last  cita- 
tion, is  a  substitution  of  Webster's.  The  last  six  lines  are 
Webster's  own,  improvised  in  playful  imitation  of  Virgil 
translated  by  Dryden. 

We  make  now  a  bold  bound  forward  and  light  upon  the 
end  of  Virgil's  Georgics.  The  last  book,  our  readers  will 
remember,  is  devoted  to  the  subject  of  bees.  A  climax  is 
sought  and  found  by  the  poet  in  a  queer  bit  of  thaumaturgy. 

He    tells   how    bees,  having    once  been  quite    lost  to   the 
11 


242  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

world,  were  renewed  in  their  stock  by  a  process  which  he 
describes  at  great  length  in  one  of  the  most  elaborate 
episodes  of  the  poem.  Proteus  figures  in  the  episode — 
Proteus,  a  humorous  old  sea-god  who  has  it  for  his  specialty 
to  be  a  cheat  of  the  first  water.  He  can  slip  from  form  to 
form  in  the  very  hands  of  those  who  hold  him.  But  bind 
him,  caught  asleep,  and  you  have  him  at  advantage.  Unless 
he  manages  still  to  deceive  you  as  to  his  own  true  identity 
and  so  to  make  his  escape  from  your  hand,  you  can  compel 
him  to  tell  you  any  thing  whatever,  past,  present,  or  future, 
you  may  desire  to  know.  (Those  of  our  readers  who  supply 
themselves  with  full  translations  of  both  Virgil  and  Ovid  may 
compare  these  two  poets  in  their  several  treatments  of  the 
Proteus  legend.)  The  upshot  is  that  the  bee-seeker  is  di- 
rected to  slay  four  fine  bulls  and  four  fair  heifers  and  have 
their  carcasses  exposed.  The  wonderful  sequel  is  thus  told 
by  the  poet,  (Professor  Conington's  prose  translation  once 
more  :) 

After,  when  the  ninth  morn-goddess  had  ushered  in  the  dawn,  he  sends 
to  Orpheus  a  funeral  sacrifice,  and  visits  the  grove  again.  And  now  a 
portent,  sudden  and  marvelous  to  tell,  meets  their  view  :  through  the 
whole  length  of  the  kine's  dissolving  flesh  bees  are  seen,  buzzing  in  the 
belly  and  boiling  out  through  the  bursten  ribs,  and  huge  clouds  lengthen 
and  sway,  till  at  last  they  pour  altogether  to  the  tree's  top,  and  let  down 
a  cluster  from  the  bending  boughs. 

The  conclusion  of  the  poem  follows  immediately  : 

Such  was  the  song  I  was  making ;  a  song  of  the  husbandry  of  fields 
and  cattle,  and  of  trees  ;  while  Caesar,  the  great,  is  flashing  war's  thun- 
derbolt over  the  depths  of  Euphrates,  and  dispensing  among  willing 
nations  a  conqueror's  law,  and  setting  his  foot  on  the  road  to  the  sky. 
In  those  days  I  was  being  nursed  in  Parthenope's  delicious  lap,  em- 
bowered in  the  pursuits  of  inglorious  peace — I,  Virgil,  who  once  dallied 
with  the  shepherd's  muse,  and  with  a  young  man's  boldness,  sang  of 
thae,  Tityrus,  under  the  spreading  beechcn  shade. 

The  poetry  of  the  Georgics  is  of  a  texture  more  finished 
than  is  that  of  the  poetry  of  the  .^Eneid.     You  have,  however, 


Virgil.  243 

to  pick  your  steps  in  this  poem  with  some  care,  if  you  are 
reading  it  aloud  to  a  mixed  company.  Still,  the  standard  and 
purpose  of  Virgil  are,  according  to  the  age  and  the  nation 
for  which  he  wrote,  good  and  pure,  even  nobly  good  and 
pure.  It  will  be  interesting  and  suggestive  to  compare  an 
English  poet's  Georgics  with  the  great  Roman's.  Read 
Thomson's  Seasons  as  in  some  respects  a  parallel  for  Virgil's 
Georgics. 

We  come  to  the  ^Eneid.  This  great  epic  has  attracted 
many  translators.  We  here  shall  have  no  doubt,  no  hesita- 
tion, in  choosing  from  among  the  number.  Mr.  Conington, 
the  late  Professor  John  Conington,  of  Oxford,  England,  is 
unquestionably  our  man.  Other  translators  than  he  have 
their  merits ;  but  for  exhaustive  learned  preparation,  schol- 
arlike  accuracy,  divining  insight,  conscientious  fidelity,  sure 
good  sense,  resourceful  command  of  language,  unflagging 
spirit,  Mr.  Conington  is  easily  the  best  of  all  Virgil's  English 
metrical  translators. 

A  serious  abatement  has  to  be  made.  Mr.  Conington  has 
chosen  for  his  verse  a  measure,  not  only  such  that  the  proper 
stately  Virgilian  movement  is  lost  in  the  Eaglish  form  which 
the  poem  assumes,  but  such  that  this  movement  suffers 
change  to  a  gait  entirely  different,  indeed  violently  con- 
trasted. Virgil's  line  is  like  the  Juno  he  describes  in  one  of 
his  own  memorably  fine,  almost  untranslatable,  expressions  ; 
it  moves  with  measured  tread  as  queen.  Mr.  Conington 's 
translation  gives  us  a  line  that  always  hastens,  and  that 
sometimes  runs  with  breathless  speed.  The  high,  queenly, 
sweeping,  dactylic  gait  that  Virgil  taught  his  verse  is  trans- 
formed by  Mr.  Conington  into  a  quick,  springing,  eager,  for- 
ward, iambic  bound.  Perhaps,  too,  in  a  poem  so  long,  the 
versification  is  felt  at  last  to  be  a  little  monotonous.  Mr. 
Conington  adopts  the  octosyllabic  wayward  irregular  meter, 
made  so  popular  in  the  handling  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  You 
read  the  ^Eneid  as  if  you  were  reading  another  Lady  of  the 


244 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 


Lake.  The  flowing 
robes  of  the  dactylic 
hexameter  are  cinct- 
ured and  retrenched 
into  the  neat,  trim, 
smart  frock  of  a  Scot- 
tish lassie. 

But  our  readers  are 
not  tobe  discomposed. 
The  total  effect  is  re- 
markably good.  We 
have  told  you  the 
whole  truth.  You  get 
Virgil  in  almost  every 
thing,  but  the  move- 
ment of  his  verse.  It 
needs  to  be  added 
that  Mr.  Conington, 
brilliant  as  he  is,  brill- 
iantly poetical  almost, 
still  remains  rather  a 
versifier  than  essen- 
tially a  poet.  He 
gives  you  not  poetry 
so  much  as  rhetoric 
in  rhyme.  But  it  is 
good  rhyme,  and  it  is 
good  rhetoric.  Now 
Virgil  is  a  true  poet ; 
but  his  poetry  is,  far 
more  than  is  Homer's, 
rhetorical.  Coning- 
ton, thus  for  his  task 

with  Virgil,  did  not  quite  so  absolutely  need,  as  did  Worsley 

for  his  task  with  Homer,  to  be  a  true  poet. 


JCNO. 


Virgil.  245 

There  was,  by  the  way,  a  relation  between  Worsley,  the 
translator  of  Homer,  and  Conington,  the  translator  of  Virgil, 
of  which  our  readers  will  like  to  hear.  The  two  were  mutual 
friends.  They  knew  how  to  appreciate  each  other,  and  how 
to  encourage  each  other  by  reciprocal  appreciation.  Mr. 
Worsley  began  to  translate  the  Iliad,  as  he  had  before  trans- 
lated the  Odyssey,  in  the  Spenserian  stanza  of  his  choice. 
Now,  Mr.  Conington  did  not  wholly  approve  of  his  friend's 
stanza,  for  the  purpose;  but  when,  about  midway  in  the 
Iliad,  the  pen  dropped  from  Worsley's  failing  hand,  and  his 
noble  translation  of  the  Homeric  poems  seemed  likely  to  re- 
main a  torso,  Mr.  Conington,  in  his  friend's  behoof,  took 
up  the  unfinished  task,  and  brought  it  to  a  prosperous  com- 
pletion. The  external  character  of  the  workmanship  is  in- 
distinguishably  the  same  as  you  pass  the  joint  made  in 
crossing  from  Worsley  to  Conington.  Only  the  reader  who 
possesses,  or  who  imagines  himself  to  possess,  a  subtle  sense 
of  poetry  as  differenced  from  verse  and  rhetoric,  will  perceive 
any  change  of  literary  standard  in  the  work. 

We  give  Virgil's  ^Sneid  chiefly  in  Conington's  version. 
But  there  are  other  renderings  of  which  our  readers  will  en- 
joy seeing  specimens.  Foremost,  of  somewhat  ancient  fame, 
stands  John  Dryden's.  You  already  know,  from  what  you 
have  seen  of  his  handling  of  the  Georgics,  the  character 
which  Dryden's  ^Eneid  will  inevitably  bear.  There  will  be 
vigor,  there  will  be  wit — if  any  chance  offers,  sometimes  per- 
haps without  much  offering  chance — there  will  be  occasional 
breaches  of  taste,  there  will  be  plentiful  noble  negligence  of 
fidelity  to  the  original,  and  there  will  be  sonorous  rhythm 
and  rhyme.  We  shall  not  need  to  furnish,  in  great  quantity, 
additional  samples  of  Dryden — who,  by  the  way,  says 
"./Eneis"  instead  of  "^Eneid."  In  fact  our  spelling  reform- 
ers are  an  age,  nay,  several  ages,  too  late.  They  ought  to 
have  come  with  Dryden,  or  before.  There  was,  in  the  his- 
tory of  our  tongue,  a  time  when  the  forms  of  words  were  very 


246  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

conveniently  unfixed  and  plastic.  ^Eneid,  ^Eneis,  Eneidos, 
Eneados,  are  some  of  the  various  spellings  for  the  title  to 
Virgil's  great  epic,  with  which  the  curious  explorer  of  books 
pertaining  to  their  author  will  meet. 

Mr.  William  Morris,  too,  of  our  own  time,  has  his  fancy  for 
naming  the  epic  of  Virgil.  His  translation  he  entitles,  "  The 
^Eneids  of  Virgil  Done  into  English  Verse."  Each  book, 
that  is,  of  the  poem,  he  will  have  to  be  an  ^Eneid,  as  a 
Georgic,  one  might  call  each  book  of  the  Georgics.  Mr. 
Morris,  a  Victorian  poet,  adopts  for  his  verse  the  fourteen- 
syllabled  couplet,  in  which  George  Chapman,  of  the  age  of 
Elizabeth,  translated  the  Iliad.  Mr.  Morris  was  anticipated 
in  his  choice  of  this  meter  for  the  work.  More  than  three 
hundred  years  ago,  Thomas  Phaer,  a  physician,  translated 
the  first  nine  books  of  the  ^Eneid  in  the  same  form  of  English 
verse.  Phaer  (or  Phaier,  or  Phaire,  or  Phayer,  or  Phayre — 
even  English  proper  names  were  then  such  good  subjects 
for  spelling  reform)  was  thirty  years  or  so  before  George 
Chapman. 

Some  of  our  readers  may  prefer  Mr.  Morris's  style  to  Mr. 
Conington's.  Enough  will  be  shown  of  Mr.  Morris's  render- 
ing to  enable  each  to  choose  for  himself  independently  of 
the  choice  of  his  author.  Our  own  countryman,  Mr.  C.  P. 
Cranch — like  Mr.  Morris,  poet  and  artist  both  in  one — has 
translated  the  Iliad  into  blank  verse.  We  shall  exhibit 
a  sample  also  of  his  work.  And  Mr.  John  D.  Long,  late 
governor  of  Massachusetts,  now  one  of  that  commonwealth's 
representatives  in  Congress,  a  man  of  singularly  clear  fame, 
still  young  enough  to  let  the  hope  of  unaccomplished  years 
be  large  and  lucid  round  his  brow — Mr.  Long,  \ve  say,  has 
executed  in  blank  verse  a  translation  of  the  yEneid,  some 
specimen  lines  of  which  we  shall  take  pleasure  in  presenting 
to  our  readers.  As  already  remarked,  however,  we  shall 
unhesitatingly  choose  Conington  to  furnish  us  the  main 
current  of  our  citation  from  Virgil. 


Virgil.  247 

The  setting  forth  of  the  subject  of  the  poem  is  excellent 
literary  art,  in  Virgil's  text.  We  cannot  do  better  than  to 
exhibit  to  our  readers  a  collation  of  the  forms  in  which  this 
appears,  as  rendered  by  different  translators.  Let  Mr.  Con- 

ington  lead  : 

Arms  and  the  man  I  sing,  who  first, 
By  Fate  of  Ilian  realm  amerced, 
To  fair  Italia  onward  bore, 
And  landed  on  Lavinium's  shore  : — 
Long  tossing  earth  and  ocean  o'er, 
By  violence  of  heaven,  to  sate 
Fell  Juno's  unforgetting  hate  : 
Much  labored  too  in  battle-field, 
Striving  his  city's  walls  to  build, 

And  give  his  gods  a  home : 
Thence  come  the  hardy  Latin  brood, 
The  ancient  sires  of  Alba's  blood, 
And  lofty-rampired  Rome. 

Dryden : 

Arms,  and  the  man  I  sing,  who,  forced  by  Fate, 
And  naughty  Juno's  unrelenting  hate, 
Expelled  and  exiled,  left  the  Trojan  shore. 
Long  labors,  both  by  sea  and  land,  he  bore, 
And  in  the  doubtful  war,  before  he  won 
The  Latian  realm,  and  built  the  destined  towa  } 
His  banished  gods  restored  to  rites  divine, 
And  settled  sure  succession  in  his  line, 
From  whence  the  race  of  Alban  fathers  come 
And  the  long  glories  of  majestic  Rome. 

Morris  : 

I  sing  of  arms,  I  sing  of  him,  who  from  the  Trojan  land 
Thrust  forth  by  Fate,  to  Italy  and  that  Lavinian  strand 
First  came  :  all  tost  about  was  he  on  earth  and  on  the  deep 
By  heavenly  might  for  Juno's  wrath,  that  had  no  mind  to  sleep: 
And  plenteous  war  he  underwent  ere  he  his  town  might  frame 
And  set  his  gods  in  Latian  earth,  whence  is  the  Latin  name, 
And  father-folk  of  Alba-town,  and  walls  of  mighty  Rome. 

Cranch : 

I  sing  of  arms,  and  of  the  man  who  first 
Came  from  the  coasts  of  Troy  to  Italy 
And  the  Lavinian  shores,  exiled  by  fate. 
Much  was  he  tossed  about  upon  the  lands 
And  in  the  ocean  by  supernal  powers, 
Because  of  cruel  Juno's  sleepless  wrath. 


248  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Many  things  also  suffered  he  in  war 
Until  he  built  a  city,  and  his  gods 
Brought  into  Latium ;  whence  the  Latin  race, 
The  Alban  sires,  and  walls  of  lofty  Rome. 

Long: 

I  sing  of  war.     I  sing  the  man  who  erst, 

From  off  the  shore  of  Troy  fate-hunted,  came 

To  the  Lavinian  coast  in  Italy, 

Hard  pressed  on  land  and  sea,  the  gods  malign, 

Fierce  Juno's  hate  unslaked.     Much  too  in  war 

He  bore  while  he  a  city  built,  and  set 

His  gods  in  Latium.     Thence  the  Latin  race, 

Our  Alban  sires,  the  walls  of  haughty  Rome  ! 

It  is  no  part  of  our  purpose  to  discuss  at  any  length  the 
particular  merits  of  the  various  versions  that  we  name.  Here, 
in  at  least  one  short  sample,  they  all  are ;  judge  their  merits 
for  yourselves.  Something,  however,  we  may  perhaps  wisely 
say  about  varying  degrees  of  fidelity  to  the  original  observ- 
able in  these  versions. 

In  preparation  for  such  a  comparison,  while  it  may  mystify, 
it  may  also  entertain,  possibly  stimulate,  the  reader  familiar 
only  with  English,  if,  of  this  one  short  passage  we  present  a 
word-for-word  translation,  with  the  verbal  order  preserved  of 
the  original  Latin.  Latin  prose  has  an  order  of  construction 
which  one  might  follow  pretty  closely,  translating  into  En- 
glish, and  produce  results  that  would  be  intelligible,  (some- 
times, indeed,  barely  so,)  though  marked  with  violent  unidio- 
matic  inversions,  dislocations,  and  involutions.  But  Latin 
poetry  has  apparently  well-nigh  unlimited  license  in  the 
relative  order  of  its  words.  From  such  a  translation  as  we 
are  now  about  to  give,  of  the  opening  lines  of  the  ^Eneid,  the 
English  reader  might  almost  seem  justified  in  judging  the 
verbal  order  of  the  passage  in  the  original  Latin  to  be  as 
lawless,  as  if  it  had  been  reached  by  simply  shuffling  the  proper 
words  together  in  an  arrangement  purely  fortuitous.  Such, 
however,  is  by  no  means  the  case.  Even  in  poetical  con- 
struction, the  law  of  Latin  syntax  still  prevails,  though  pre- 
vailing after  a  manner  which  it  would  be  uninteresting  to 


Virgil.  249 

explain  to  one  not  versed  at  all  in  the  language.  What  per- 
mits such  seemingly  strange  collocation  of  words  in  a  Latin 
sentence  is  principally  the  inflection  to  which  Latin  nouns 
and  adjectives  are  subject.  In  most  instances,  you  know  ab- 
solutely whether  a  given  noun  is  subject  or  object,  in  a  Latin 
sentence,  by  the  form  in  which  it  stands.  What  noun  a  giv- 
en adjective  affects,  you  know  by  the  agreement  in  gender, 
number,  and  case,  that  subsists  between  the  two.  This  pe- 
culiarity of  the  Latin  language,  (it  belongs  to  the  Greek  no 
less,)  as  compared  with  the  English,  renders  it  possible  for  a 
Latin  writer,  without  injury  to  clearness  of  style,  to  use,  in 
disjoining  and  separating  related  words,  a  degree  of  freedom 
that  in  English  would  be  hopelessly  confusing — which  let  our 
readers  see  for  themselves  in  the  following  literal,  over-literal, 
translation  of  the  lines  from  Virgil  that  they  have  now  just 
read  in  a  number  of  metrical  versions  : 

Arms,  man-and  I  sing,  of  Troy  who  first  from  shores  |  To  Italy  by 
fate  to  Lavinian-and  came  |  Coasts  much  he  both  on  lands  tossed  about, 
and  on  deep  |  By  violence  of  superior  beings,  fierce  mindful  Juno's  on 
account  of  wrath  |  Many  things  besides  also  in  war  suffering  while  he 
should  build  city  |  Bring-and  gods  to  Latium:  race  whence  Latin  Alban- 
and  fathers,  and  of  lofty  walls  Rome. 

Such  an  assemblage  of  words  as  the  foregoing  would  cer- 
tainly answer  very  well  for  a  puzzle  to  amuse  the  leisurely 
and  curious  mind  of  childhood — the  problem  being  to  arrange 
the  jumbled  words  in  the  order  necessary  to  give  sense,  and 
the  true  sense.  Take,  for  example,  the  clause,  "  fierce  mindful 
Juno's  on  account  of  wrath."  The  words  of  this  clause 
would  present  a  quite  hopeless  riddle.  You  could  not  tell 
with  which  noun  to  join  the  different  adjectives.  The  order 
might  be,  "on  account  of  fierce  mindful  Juno's  wrath."  The 
idea  in  fact  is,  "on  account  of  fierce  Juno's  mindful  wrath," 
and  there  is  in  the  Latin  no  chance  of  other  rendering.  If 
readers  would  feel  it  a  relief  to  have  their  brains  settled, 
after  whirling  in  the  vortices,  or  wandering  in  the  mazes,  of 
11* 


250  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 

our  too-literal  translation,  let  them  now  peruse  Professor 
Conington's  clear  and  beautiful  prose  rendering  of  the  same 
passage  : 

Arms  and  the  man  I  sing,  who  at  the  first  from  Troy's  shores  the 
exile  of  destiny,  won  his  way  to  Italy  and  her  Latian  coast — a  man 
much  buffeted  on  land  and  on  the  deep  by  violence  from  above,  to  sate 
the  unforgetting  wrath  of  Juno  the  cruel — much  scourged  too  in  war,  as 
he  struggled  to  build  him  a  city,  and  find  his  gods  a  home  in  Latium — 
himself  the  father  of  the  Latian  people,  and  the  chiefs  of  Alba's  houses, 
and  the  walls  of  high  towering  Rome. 

Professor  Conington  translates,  you  see,  even  in  prose, 
with  noble  liberality.  The  Latin  has  no  article.  Whether 
the  conception  of  the  original  writer  may  be  better  expressed 
by  "  the,"  or  by  "  a,"  or  by  neither,  is  always  a  point  to  be 
decided  for  each  particular  case  on  its  own  grounds.  In  our 
own  servile  translation,  we  preferred  to  give  the  nouns  uni- 
formly quite  bare  of  articles. 

Professor  Conington,  we  may  in  passing  mention,  besides 
his  translation  in  verse  of  the  ^Eneid,  and  in  prose  of  the 
books  of  Virgil  entire,  has  also  a  scholarly  edition  with  notes 
of  the  original  Latin  text  of  his  author.  (And,  by  the  way, 
since  our  "  Preparatory  Greek  Course  in  English,"  there  has 
appeared  a  choice  prose  translation  of  the  Odyssey  by 
Messrs.  Butcher  &  Lang,  obtainable  at  a  fair  price,  in  two 
different  editions,  that  of  Macmillan  &  Co.,  and  that  of  D. 
Lothrop  &  Co.  Both  are  well  printed,  but  the  latter  is  in 
larger  type.  A  prose  version  of  the  Iliad,  executed  on  the 
same  plan,  has  also  lately  appeared.)  Mr.  W.  T.  Sellar  has 
a  thorough  and  satisfactory  book  on  Virgil  under  the  general 
title,  "Roman  Poets  of  the  Augustan  Age."  To  Professor 
Frieze,  of  the  University  of  Michigan,  must  be  attributed  the 
merit  of  giving  the  lead  to  American  scholars  in  producing 
school  editions  of  the  ^Eneid,  luminous  not  only  with  learn- 
ing, but  with  choice  graphic  illustrations  of  the  text.  We 
here  are  indebted  to  the  liberality  of  Professor  Frieze's 


publishers,  Messrs.  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  for  many  of  the  cuts 
distributed  through  our  own  pages. 

The  JEneid  is  of  set  deliberate  purpose  a  national  epic  in 
the  strictest  sense.  Such,  the  Iliad,  Hellenic  as  that  poem  is 
throughout,  is  not.  It  happens  that  the  Iliad  is  Greek.  Vir- 
gil expressly  designed  to  produce  a  poem  that  should  be 
Roman  and  national.  The  JEneid  is  accordingly,  in  its 
plan,  a  larger  poem  than  the  Iliad.  The  wrath  of  Achilles 
suffices  to  Homer  for  theme.  Virgil's  theme  must  be  noth- 
ing less  than  the  founding  of  Rome.  The  Iliad,  personal  by 
intention,  is  only  by  accident  national.  The  ^Eneid,  na- 
tional by  intention,  is  only  by  accident  personal.  Virgil  is 
second  and  secondary  to  Homer.  But  nobody  can  deny 
that  the  conception  of  Virgil's  poem,  as  a  whole,  though  it 
may  lack  the  attribute  of  spontaneity,  may  be  cold-blood- 
edly intentional  and  conventional,  is  at  least  nobler  in  breadth 
and  magnitude,  perhaps  also  in  height  and  aspiration,  than 
is  the  conception  of  the  Iliad.  The  Iliad  grew  to  be  what  it 
was.  The  ^Eneid  was  made  such  as  we  have  it  by  a  first 
great  act  of  invention  on  the  part  of  the  poet.  Virgil's  poem 
was,  from  the  first,  what,  with  few  intervals,  it  has  always  re- 
mained, a  school-book.  Its  national  character  eminently 
fitted  it  to  be,  as  it  was,  a  school-book  to  Roman  boys. 

A  short  summary  of  the  action  of  the  ^Eneid  may  help  the 
reader  follow  intelligently  the  sequence  of  events.  Virgil 
really  does,  what  Homer  is  often  said  to  do,  but  does  not, 
plunge  into  the  midst  of  things  with  his  story. 

In  the  first  book,  ^Eneas,  the  seventh  summer  after  the  fall 
of  Troy,  lands  with  his  companions  on  the  Carthaginian  coast. 
Here,  Ulysses-like,  he  relates  to  Carthaginian  Queen  Dido 
the  story  of  his  previous  adventures  and  wanderings.  This 
narration  occupies  two  more  books  of  the  poem.  The  fourth 
book  contains  the  episode  of  the  mutual  passion  between 
Dido  and  .^Eneas,  ending  tragically  for  Dido  in  his  faithless 
desertion  of  her  and  in  her  death  by  cruel  suicide.  The  fifth 


252  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

book  describes  the  games  celebrated  by  the  Trojans  on  the 
hospitable  shores  of  Sicily  in  honor  of  ^Eneas's  dead  father, 
Anchises  (An-ki'ses.)  In  the  sixth  book,  ./Eneas,  arrived  in 
Italy,  makes  his  descent  into  the  lower  world.  The  rest  of 
the  poem  relates  the  fortunes  of  yEneas  in  obtaining  a  set- 
tlement for  the  Trojans  in  Italy.  There  is  war.  Against 
the  invaders,  a  great  Italian  champion  appears,  who  serves 
the  same  purpose  of  foil  to  ^Eneas  as  long  before  did  Hector 
to  Achilles.  The  end,  of  course,  is  victory  for  y£neas. 

We  now  return  to  let  Virgil  himself,  speaking  by  the  voice 
of  English  interpreter  Conington,  take  us  forward  the  first 
stage  of  his  poem.  There  is,  in  the  whole  yEneid,  no  more 
finished  versification,  no  more  skillful  narrative,  no  greater 
wealth  of  quotable  and  quoted  phrases,  than  you  will  find  in 
the  first  book  of  the  poem.  We  should  much  like  to  give 
the  book  entire.  We,  however,  promise  ourselves  the  pros- 
pect of  affording  our  readers  even  more  pleasure  by  showing 
them  the  full  text,  or  as  nearly  as  possible  the  full  text,  of 
the  sixth  book.  This,  indeed,  we  feel  under  some  obliga- 
tion to  do.  In  the  volume  preceding  this,  we  omitted  the 
Homeric  story  of  a  visit  on  the  part  of  Ulysses  to  Hades — 
making  peace  with  our  readers  then  by  a  hint  that  we  should 
by  and  by  have  the  Virgilian  version  of  the  same  incident  to 
offer  in  compensation.  We,  therefore,  condense  Virgil's  first 
book — by  retrenchments  which,  not  less  on  account  of  the 
beauty  of  the  translation,  than  on  account  of  the  beauty  of 
the  original,  it  irks  us  sore  to  make.  We  begin  with  a  cita- 
tion long  enough  to  include  a  fine  example  of  Virgil's  sub- 
limity, appearing  in  the  description  of  a  storm  and  shipwreck. 
But  first  let  us  do  as  boys  do  when  they  are  about  to  make  a 
fine  jump — let  us  go  back  a  little  and  get  a  start  before  be- 
ginning. The  few  lines  of  transition  intervening  between 
the  introduction  and  the  story  proper  of  Virgil  are  too  good 
and  too  famous  to  be  wholly  left  out.  These,  in  particular 
— an  invocation  : 


Virgil.  253 

Say,  muse,  for  godhead  how  disdained, 

Or  wherefore  wroth,  Heaven's  queen  constrained 

That  soul  of  piety  so  long 

To  turn  the  wheel,  to  cope  with  wrong. 

Can  heavenly  natures  nourish  hate 

So  fierce,  so  blindly  passionate  ? 

The  last  couplet  is  the  rendering,  unfortunately  somewhat 
dilute  by  amplification,  of  celebrated  words  : 
Tantsene  animis  coelestibus  irae  ? 

Literally:  Angers  so  great  in  minds  celestial? 

What  immediately  follows  this  challenge  to  the  muse  con- 
tains the  supposably  muse-inspired  account  of  the  matter  in- 
quired about.  Juno  was  jealous — partly  on  behalf  of  threat- 
ened Carthage,  beloved  by  her,  and  partly  on  account  of 
a  slight  done  to  her  own  claims  of  personal  beauty,  by 
Trojan  Paris's  judgment  that  Venus  was  lovelier  than  she. 
The  passage  contains  memorable  phrases,  for  example  :  Samo 
posthabita,  meaning  "  [even]  Samos  being  held  in  less  esteem 
[than  Carthage]  " — an  expression  not  unfrequently  quoted, 
in  various  adaptation,  by  modern  writers;  alia  mente  repos* 
turn,  literally,  "stored  up  in  her  [Juno's]  deep  mind,"  said  of 
the  invidious  judgment  of  Paris;  relliquias  Danaum  atque 
imrnitis  Achilli,  literally,  "  remnants  left  by  the  Danaans  and 
by  pitiless  Achilles,"  applying  to  the  escaped  Trojans ;  now 
a  whole  Virgilian  line, 

Tantoe  molis  erat  Romanam  condere  gentem, 

which  let  Conington  modulate  for  us  from  the  lofty  single 
Virgilian  hexameter  to  the  ringing  octosyllabic  couplet : 

So  vast  the  labor  to  create, 
The  fabric  of  the  Roman  state. 

Two  lines  for  one,  with  however  but  two  syllables  added  to 
the  number  of  syllables. 

We  need  not  tell  our  readers  that  the  machinery  with 
which,  in  the  comparatively  long  citation  to  follow,  the  raising 
and  calming  of  the  tempest  are  brought  about,  was  already 


254  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

in  Virgil's  time  nearly  as  much  an  exploded  superstition  at 
Rome  as  is  the  case  in  our  own  day.  There  is  in  the  intro- 
duction, on  Virgil's  part,  of  this  absurd  supernaturalism  a 
certain  lack  of  genuineness  apparent,  which  in  Homer  we 
nowhere  discover.  The  tempest-raising  part  of  .^Eolus  in  this 
action  is  a  transfer  from  Homer.  ^Eolus  has  just  responded 
favorably  to  an  appeal  from  Juno  for  his  intervention.  His 
intervention  is  prompt.  It  was,  literally,  a  word  and  a  blow  - 

He  said,  and  with  his  spear  struck  wide 

The  portals  in  the  mountain  side  : 

At  once,  like  soldiers  in  a  band, 

Forth  rush  the  winds,  and  scour  the  land: 

Then  lighting  heavily  on  the  main, 

East,  South,  and  West  with  storms  in  train, 

Heave  from  its  depth  the  watery  floor, 

And  roll  great  billows. to  the  shore. 

Then  come  the  clamor  and  the  shriek, 

The  sailors  shout,  the  main-ropes  creak  : 

All  in  a  moment  sun  and  skies 

Are  blotted  from  the  Trojan's  eyes: 

Black  night  is  brooding  o'er  the  deep, 

Sharp  thunder  peals,  live  lightnings  leap  : 

The  stoutest  warrior  holds  his  breath, 

And  looks  as  on  the  face  of  death. 

At  once  tineas  thrilled  with  dread  ; 

Forth  from  his  breast,  with  hands  outspread, 

These  groaning  words  he  drew  : 
"O  happy,  thrice  and  yet  again, 
Who  died  at  Troy  like  valiant  men, 

E'en  in  their  parents'  view  ! 
O  Diomed,  first  of  Greeks  in  fray, 
Why  pressed  I  not  the  plain  that  day, 

Yielding  my  life  to  you, 
Where  stretched  beneath  a  Phrygian  sky 
Fierce  Hector,  tall  Sarpedon  lie: 
\Vhere  Simois  tumbles  'neath  his  wave 
Shields,  helms,  and  bodies  of  the  brave?" 

Now,  howling  from  the  north,  the  gale, 
While  thus  he  moans  him,  strikes  his  sail : 
The  swelling  surges  climb  the  sky  ; 
The  shattered  oars  in  splinters  fly  ; 
The  prow  turns  round,  and  to  the  tide 
I,ays  broad  and  bare  the  vessel's  side  ; 
On  comes  a  billow  mountain-steep, 
Bears  down,  and  tumbles  in  a  heap. 


Virgil. 


255 


These  stagger  on  the  billow's  crest, 

Those  to  the  yawning  depth  deprest 

See  land  appearing  'mid  the  waves, 

While  surf  with  sand  in  turmoil  raves. 

Three  ships  the  South  has  caught  and  thrown 

On  scarce  hid  rocks,  as  altars  known, 

Ridging  the  main,  a  reef  of  stone. 

Three  more  fierce  Eurus  from  the  deep, 

A  sight  to  make  the  gazer  weep. 

Drives  on  the  shoals,  and  banks  them  round 

With  sand,  as  with  a  rampire-mouncl. 

One,  which  erewhile  from  Lycia's  shore 

Orontes  and  his  people  bore, 

E'en  in  ^Lneas's  anguished  sight 

A  sea  down  crashing  from  the  height 

Strikes  full  astern  :   the  pilot,  torn 

From  off  the  helm,  is  headlong  borne  : 

Three  turns  the  foundered  vessel  gave, 

Then  sank  beneath  the  engulfing  wave. 

There  in  the  rast  abyss  are  seen 

Tlte  swimmers,  few  and  far  beliveen, 

And  warrior's  arms  and  shattered  wood, 

And  Trojan  treasures  strew  the  flood. 

And  now  Ilioneus,  and  now 

Aletes  old  and  gray, 
Abas  and  brave  Achates  bow, 

Beneath  the  tempest's  sway  ; 
Fast  drinking  in  through  timbers  loose 
At  every  pore  the  fatal  ooze, 

Their  sturdy  barks  give  way. 
Neptune  at  this  point 

His  calm  broad  brow  o'er  ocean  rears. 


NEPTUNE    CALMING    THE    SEA. 


256  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

He  speaks  with  highly  pacific  effect  thus  described: 

• 

As  when  sedition  oft  has  stirred 
In  some  great  town  the  vulgar  herd, 
And  brands  and  stones  already  fly — 
For  Rage  has  weapons  always  nigh- 
Then  should  some  man  of  worth  appear 
Whose  stainless  virtue  all  re /ere, 
They  hush,  they  list  :  his  clear  voice  rules 
Their  rebel  wills,  their  anger  cools  : 
So  ocean  ceased  at  once  to  rave, 
When,  calmly  looking  o'er  the  wave, 
Girt  with  a  range  of  azure  sky, 
The  father  bids  his  chariot  fly. 

The  foregoing  simile  is  a  celebrated  one.  The  allusion  in 
it  is,  with  great  probability,  held  to  be  to  an  incident  in 
Cicero's  oratorical  career.  Roscius  Otho  had  been  greeted 
in  a  theater  with  a  tumultuary  storm  of  hisses.  The  disturb- 
ance grew  to  a  riot.  Cicero  was  summoned.  He  got  the 
people  into  a  temple  near  by,  and  there,  with  infinite  skill, 
rebuked  and  rallied  them  out  of  their  ill-temper.  It  was  a 
striking  triumph  of  oratory  seconded  by  character. 

The  couplet  italicized  a  little  way  back,  translates 

Apparent  rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto, 

a  highly  picturesque  phrase  of  description,  which  you  will 
occasionally  meet  as  classical  garnish  to  a  passage  of  writing 
in  English. 

Our  readers,  we  are  sure,  must  feel  with  us  that  such 
verse  as  they  have  now  been  reading  is  full  of  spirit.  They 
may  equally  feel  that  it  represents,  and  well  represents,  an 
original  worthy  of  being  thus  admirably  translated. 

The  "  tempest-tossed  ^Eneadoe"  (Trojans)  struggle  ashore, 
and  there  make  themselves  as  comfortable  as  they  can. 
./Eneas  gets  a  shot  (with  bow  and  arrow)  at  some  deer  that 
come  within  sight  and  range.  He  kills  just  a  deer  apiece 
for  his  seven  ships,  and,  with  this  good  fortune  to  support 
him,  he  harangues  his  comrades: 


Virgil. 


257 


Comrades  and  friends  !  for  ours  is  strength 

Has  brooked  the  test  of  woes  ; 
O  worse-scarred  hearts  !   these  wounds  at  length 

The  gods  will  heal,  like  those. 
You  that  have  seen  grim  Scylla  rave, 

And  heard  her  monsters  yell, 
You  that  have  looked  upon  the  cave 

Where  savage  Cyclops  dwell, 
Come,  cheer  your  souls,  your  fears  forget  ; 
This  suffering  luill  yield  us  yet 

A  pleasant  tale  to  tell. 

Through  chance,  through  peril  lies  our  way 
To  Latium,  where  the  fates  display 
A  mansion  of  abiding  stay: 
There  Troy  her  fallen  realm  shall  raise  : 
Bear  up,  and  live  for  happier  days. 

The  couplet  italicized  translates 

Et  hsec  olim  meminisse  juvabit, 

(literally :  Even  these  things  hereafter  to  remember  will 
afford  delight,)  a  sentiment  often  quoted  by  modern  authors 
in  Virgil's  own  happy  expression. 

Venus  intervenes.  She  begs  her  father  Jove  to  let  her  do 
something  handsome  for  her  beloved  Trojans.  She  took 
Jove  at  the  right  moment  and  went  at  him  in  the  right  way. 
He  is  completely  overcome.  He  most  paternally  reassures 
his  irresistible  daughter  with  a  pro- 
phetic sketch  of  the  future  awaiting 
her  chosen  nation.  What  noble  flat- 
tery Virgil  manages  thus  to  offer  to 
his  countrymen,  and  to  his  illustri- 
ous patron,  the  emperor — we  must 
leave  it  to  the  imagination  of  our 
readers  to  conjecture.  An  era  of 
tranquillity,  of  course  the  Augustan 
age,  is  foreshadowed,  in  which 


JANUS. 


Grim  iron  bolt  and  massive  bar 
Shall  close  the  dreadful  gates  of  war. 


258  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

In  the  closing  line  of  the  prophetic  passage,  by  us  omitted, 
Rage,  personified,  is  represented  as  in  the  prosperous  peace 
foretold  roaring  vainly 

From  lips  incarnadined  with  gore. 

Here  "incarnadined"  (dyed  red)  is  a  word  that  Coning- 
ton,  and  with  fine  felicity,  takes,  no  doubt,  at  the  suggestion 
of  Shakespeare's 

The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine. 

The  word  has  a  certain  Virgilian  quality  which  warrants 
Mr.  Conington  in  using  it,  as  he  does,  more  than  once  in  the 
course  of  his  translation. 

The  next  day  y£neas  had  an  adventure  that  was  worth 
while.  He  met  his  goddess-mother,  Venus,  not  confessed  in 
her  true  divine  identity,  but  wearing  a  disguise  of  virgin 
loveliness,  which  Virgil  beautifully  describes  as  follows: 

In  mien  and  gear  a  Spartan  maid, 
Or  like  Harpalyce  arrayed, 
Who  tires  fleet  coursers  in  the  chase, 
And  heads  the  swiftest  streams  of  Thrace. 
Slung  from  her  shoulders  hangs  a  bow  ; 
Loose  to  the  wind  her  tresses  flow ; 
Bare  was  her  knee  ;  her  mantle's  fold 
The  gathering  of  a  knot  controlled. 

The  colloquy  which  ensued  we  have  no  room  to  give  at 
large.  The  goddess  informs  yEneas  where  he  is,  and  how, 
under  present  circumstances,  he  ought  to  manage  matters. 
The  bewitching  creature  uses  one  simile,  to  convey  her  en- 
couragement to  her  son,  that  is  divine  enough  to  be  reported 
to  our  readers  : 

Mark  those  twelve  swans,  that  hold  their  way 

In  seemly  jubilant  array, 

Whom  late,  down  swooping  from  on  high, 

Jove's  eagle  scattered  through  the  sky  ; 

Now  see  them  o'er  the  land  extend 

Or  hover,  ready  to  descend  : 

They,  rallying,  sport  on  noisy  wing, 

And  circle  round  the  heaven,  and  sing : 


Virgil.  259 

E'en  so  your  ships,  your  martial  train, 
Have  gained  the  port,  or  stand  to  gain. 
Then  pause  not  further,  but  proceed 
Still  following  where  the  road  shall  lead. 

The  immediate  sequel  was  tantalizing  in  the  extreme. 
Venus  revealed  herself  as  Venus  and — instantly  vanished : 

She  turned,  and  flashed  upon  their  view 
Her  stately  neck's  pwrpureal  hue  ; 
Ambrosial  tresses  round  her  head 
A  more  than  earthly  fragrance  shed  : 
Her  falling  robe  her  footprints  swept, 
And  showed  the  goddess  as  she  slept. 

She  through  the  sky  to  Paphos  moves, 
And  seeks  the  temple  of  her  loves. 

The  line  in  Italics  translates 

Et  vera  incessu  patuit  dea, 

an  expression  familiar  in  quotation. 

The  two  Trojans,  yEneas  and  his  faithful  companion,  Acha- 
tes, shrouded  by  Venus  in  a  cloud,  invisibly  visit  the  scene 
of  the  labors  in  progress  for  the  founding  of  Carthage.  The 
description  is  very  fine  in  Virgil,  and  it  loses  nothing  of  spirit 
in  the  finished  version  of  Mr.  Conington.  A  simile  occurs 
in  it,  one  of  Virgil's  best,  which  our  readers  must  not  lose. 
The  various  busy  labor  of  the  Carthaginian  builders  is  the 

subject : 

So  bees,  when  spring-time  is  begun 
Ply  their  warm  labor  in  the  sun, 
What  time  along  the  flowery  mead 
Their  nation's  infant  hope  they  lead  ; 
Or  with  clear  honey  charge  each  cell, 
And  make  the  hive  with  sweetness  swell, 
The  workers  of  their  loads  relieve, 
Or  chase  the  drones,  that  gorge  and  thieve  : 
IVitJi  toil  the  busy  scene  ferments, 
And  fragrance  breathes  from  thymy  scents. 

The  italicized  line  translates  two  words  in  the  original, 
Fervet  opus,  "  glows  the  work,"  literally  rendered — a  phrase 
of  great  descriptive  power,  which  Mr.  Conington  injures  by 
his  compulsory  dilution  of  it. 


260  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

^Eneas — Achates  is  now  neglected  by  the  poet — looks  about 
him  at  his  leisure.  He  examines  a  temple  to  Juno,  and  in  it 
sees  what  affects  him  to  tears — tears  such  as  Ulysses  also  wept 
in  the  Pheeacian  land.  The  Trojan  war  is  depicted  in  the 
decorations.  One  of  his  exclamations  at  the  sight — an  ex- 
clamation we  are  to  suppose  to  have  been  inaudible,  as  the 
utterer  of  it  was  invisible — is  famous  in  frequent  citation. 
There  is  a  charm-like  effect  to  the  words,  which  makes  them 
seem  somehow  to  convey  a  meaning  deeper  than  they  really 
do: 

E'en  here  the  tear  of  pity  springs, 

And  hearts  are  touched  by  human  things, 

an  inadequate  rendering  of  language  which  perhaps  no  art 
could  successfully  transmute  into  another  and  equivalent 
form  of  expression.  These  are  Virgil's  magical  words  : 

Sunt  lacrymoe  rerum  et  mentem  mortalia  tangunt. 

A  previous  word,  "here,"  meaning  'even  at  Carthage,'  af- 
fects the  line  and  makes  it  say,  literally,  "  Here  too  there  are 
tears  for  things  [that  need  them]  and  mortal  experiences 
touch  the  mind." 

The  whole  passage,  descriptive  of  the  scenes  that  were 
portrayed  in  that  temple,  is  exceedingly  fine.  ^Eneas  made 
a  rapt  study  of  what  he  saw,  until  he  was  interrupted  by 
the  approach  of  Queen  Dido,  whom  the  poet  ushers  in  to  us 
with  a  stately  simile. 

Dido  seats  herself  and  gives  out  laws — when,  behold, 
some  of  those  Trojans  who  were  shipwrecked  make  their  ap- 
pearance. Invisible  ^Eneas  and  Achates  are  overjoyed,  but 
they  wait  and  listen  while  one  of  their  Trojan  friends  de- 
livers himself  of  an  extremely  well-conceived  appeal,  for  fa- 
vorable consideration,  to  the  queen  and  her  subjects.  The 
speaker  makes  flowing  promises  of  the  most  honorable  con- 
duct on  the  part  of  his  companions,  and  on  that  of  the  Tro- 
jans in  general,  by  way  of  return  for  the  hospitality  they  crave. 


Virgil.  261 

The  Carthaginian  queen  responds  with  the  utmost  grace  of 
majesty.  She  says  she  will  send  to  seek  their  great  ^Eneas. 
^neas  himself,  with  his  friend  Achates,  amid  the  clouds 
can  scarcely  keep  from  crying  out.  The  cloud  seems  to  feel 
by  sympathy  the  effects  of  his  impulse  to  speak.  It  parts 

And  purges  brightening  into  day. 

And  now  an  Homeric  miracle.  The  goddess-mother  of 
^Eneas  does  for  her  son  what  readers  of  the  Odyssey  will  re- 
member Pallas  Athene  more  than  once  did  for  her  favorite 
warrior  and  sage,  Ulysses  —  she  glorifies  ^Eneas  into  godlike 
grace  and  beauty.  The  transfiguration  is  beautifully  por- 
trayed by  Virgil,  and  Mr.  Conington  as  translator  is  not 
wanting  to  the  occasion  : 


stood,  to  sight  confest, 
A  very  god  in  face  and  chest  : 
For  Venus  round  her  darling's  head 
A  length  of  clustering  locks  had  spread, 
Crowned  him  with  youth's  purpureal  light, 
And  made  his  eyes  gleam  glad  and  bright  : 
Such  loveliness  the  hands  of  art 
To  ivory's  native  hues  impart  : 
So  'mid  the  gold  around  it  placed 
Shines  silver  pale  or  marble  chaste. 

Radiant  ^Eneas  makes  to  Dido  a  very  gallant  speech,  full  of 
chivalrous  engagement.  You  would  have  taken  him  for  the 
soul  of  honor.  But  honor,  as  we  Christians  understand  the 
idea,  was  b'y  no  means  ^Eneas's  forte.  ^Eneas's  specialty  was 
"  piety  "  —  piety  in  the  sense  of  reverence  for  the  gods  and 
for  parents,  and  of  regard  for  duties  owed  to  country.  Vir- 
gil's attribution  of  piety  to  ^Eneas  did  not  in  the  least  imply 
that  he,  pious  soul,  might  not  all  the  same  be  a  very  poor 
reliance  in  relations  other  than  the  ones  above  specified. 
This,  Dido,  to  her  undoing,  was  presently  to  learn.  Uncon- 
sciously, or  indeed  perhaps  consciously,  Virgil  incorporated 
the  very  spirit  of  the  ideal  Roman  character  in  his  hero 


262  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

yEneas.  To  this  "  pious  "  man  nothing  could  be  wrong  that 
would  tend  to  further  his  fortunes.  But  we  anticipate. 

Dido,  in  all  good  sincerity,  makes  fit  queenly  return  of 
/Eneas's  high-flown  assurances : 

Myself  not  ignorant  of  woe 
Compassion  I  have  learned  to  show, 

is  one  of  her  pathetic  expressions.     These  words  translate 

the  line, 

Non  ignara  mail  miseris  succerrere  disco, 

which  is  one  of  the  most  frequently  quoted  of  all  Virgil's 
numerous  contributions  to  the  stock  of  current  poetical  com- 
monplace. Dido  thus  refers  to  a  sad  experience  of  her  own, 
in  the  loss  of  her  husband  Sy-choe'us  by  foul  unnatural  murder. 
Poor  soul,  she  was  destined  soon  to  be  still  more  learned  in 
the  lore  of  woe,  and  that  through  the  perfidy  of  this  her  pious 
guest.  For  the  present,  however,  Dido  lavishes  refreshment 
on  the  Trojan  crews,  and  sets  her  palace  in  order  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  their  goddess-born  and  godlike  leader,  /Eneas. 
He  meantime,  "  loth  to  lose  the  father  in  the  king,"  sends  to 
have  brought  to  him  his  son,  the  lovely  lad  variously  named 
I-u'lus,  I-lus,  As-ca'ni-us. 

This  quest  of  the  father's  gives  Venus  a  chance,  not  to  be 
lost.  She  plans  a  deceit.  Her  boy  Cupid  shall  go  person- 
ate Ascanius  and,  nestling,  at  the  feast  to  be,  in  the  bosom 
of  Dido,  shall  infix  ineradicably  there  a  sweet  sting  of  love 
for  /Eneas.  The  true  Ascanius,  her  grandson,  the  goddess 
transports  elsewhere  and 

soft  amaracus  receives 
And  gently  curtains  him  with  leaves. 

The  plot  prospers.  Cupid  enters  sympathetically  into  the 
humor  of  his  part.  As  Mr.  Conington  featly  and  daintily 
translates, 

Young  Love  obeyed,  his  plumage  stripped, 
And,  laughing,  like  lulus  tripped. 


Virgil. 


263 


Unconscious  Dido  at  the  feast  caresses  her  doom.     The 

roguish  Cupid  having  first 

satisfied  the  fond  desire 
Of  that  his  counterfeited  bire, 
Turns  him  to  Dido.     Heart  and  eye 
She  clings,  she  cleaves,  she  makes  him  lie 
Lapped  in  her  breast,  nor  knows,  lost  fair, 
How  dire  a  god  sits  heavy  there. 
But  he,  too  studious  to  fulfill 
His  Acidalian  mother's  will, 
Begins  to  cancel  trace  by  trace 
The  imprint  of  Sychasus'  face, 
And  bids  a  living  passion  steal 
On  senses  long  unused  to  feel. 

Dido  is  lost.    She  commits  herself  in  boundless  pledge  to  the 
Trojans.    In  a  pause  made,  she  solemnly  appeals  to  Olympus. 


JUPITER   AND    THE   OLYMPIAN    GODS. 


264  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Jove  as  the  monarch,  Juno  as  patroness  of  Carthage,  and  Bac- 
chus as  lord  of  feasts  are  the  divinities  invoked.  Dido  cries: 

O  make  this  day  a  day  of  joy 
Alike  to  Tyre  and  wandering  Troy, 
And  may  our  children's  children  feel 
The  blessing  of  the  bond  we  seal  ! 

Readers  must  understand  that  Dido  was  a  colonist  at  Car- 
thage, lately  come  from  Tyre.  With  her  invocation  of  the 
Olympians,  a  full  pledge  in  golden  wine  was  poured  out. 
Then  the  part  performed  by  Demodocus  at  Homer's  Phaea- 
cian  banquet  to  Ulysses  is  repeated  at  this  Didonian  feast 
given  in  honor  of  ^Eneas.  I-o'pas  is  the  name  of  Virgil's 
bard.  This  name  has  never  become  so  famous  in  subse- 
quent song  and  story  as  has  the  name  Demodocus.  Never- 
theless, the  performance  did  not  lack  matter,  as  will  show 
the  following  brilliant  programme,  itself  poetry  and  song  of 
potent  spell  to  the  imagination.  How  charmingly  Mr. 
Conington  has  rendered  it  !  Virgil  had  a  marked  tendency 
toward  philosophical  poetry.  Lucretius  drew  him  strongly. 
Observe  how  he  here  makes  lopas  go,  as  it  were  philosoph- 
ically, not  less  than  poetically,  into  the  secret  of  things: 

He  sings  the  wanderings  of  the  moon, 
The  sun  eclipsed  in  deadly  swoon, 
Whence  human  kind  and  cattle  came, 
And  whence  the  rain-spout  and  the  flame, 
Arcturus  and  the  two  bright  Bears, 
And  Hyads  weeping  showery  tears, 
Why  winter  suns  so  swiftly  go, 
And  why  the  weary  nights  move  slow. 

Discourse  succeeds  to  feast  and  song.  Dido  asks  ^Eneas 
to  tell  the  company  all  about  his  own  various  fortune — with 
which  request  ends  book  first  of  the  yEneid. 

The  second  book,  with  the  third,  is  made  up  of  vEneas's 
autobiographical  story.  The  beginning  of  the  tale  has  some 
phrases  that  have  passed  into  the  commonplace  of  quotation 

and  allusion. 

Too  cruel,  lady,  is  the  pain 
You  bid  me  thus  revive  again, 


Virgil.  265 

is  Mr.  Conington's  turning  into  English  of 

Infandum,  regina,  jubes  renovare  dolorem. 

Again  the  couplet, 

The  woes  I  saw  with  these  sad  eyne, 
The  deeds  whereof  large  part  was  mine, 

renders 

quaeque  ipse  miserrima  vidi 
Et  quorum  pars  magna  fui. 

The  last  clause  in  particular  is  almost  a  proverb  for  uni- 
versal familiarity.  Literally  rendered,  the  whole  quotation 
would  read,  "  Both  the  things,  most  full  of  wretchedness,  which 
I  myself  saw,  and  the  things  of  which  I  a  large  part  was." 
Nothing  could  possibly  reproduce  the  neat  denseness  of  the 
original  Latin.  Would  readers  like  to  see  how  Mr.  Morris 
manages  this  place  in  his  fourteen-syllabled  line  ?  Well,  he, 
through  the  whole  poem,  makes  his  translation  keep  step 
verse  by  verse  with  the  original — a  thing  which  is  in  itself  a 
merit.  But  the  consequence  is  that  here  we  have  to  give 
two  partial  lines  answering  to  two  such  in  Virgil : 

which  thing  myself  unhappy  did  behold, 
Yea,  and  was  no  small  part  thereof. 

The  adjective  "  unhappy  "  he  seems  to  make  qualify  "  my- 
self," which  in  the  original  it  does  not  do,  it  there  qualifying 
the  "  thing,"  instead. 

All  that  I  saw  and  part  of  which  I  was, 

is  what  the  easy-going  literary  conscience  of  Dryden  per- 
mits him  to  make  of  the  same  passage — he,  to  boot,  rhyming 
execrably  the  word  "place  "  with  the  word  "was." 

yEneas,  as  after-dinner  story-teller,  sets  out  with  the  inci- 
dent of  the  celebrated  Wooden  Horse.  Of  this  incident, 

only  alluded  to  in  our   treatment  of  Homer,  we  proceed  to 
12 


c66  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

give  Virgil's  account  in  full,  or  nearly  enough  in  full  for  the 
full  satisfaction  of  our  readers  : 

The  Danaan  chiefs,  with  cunning  given 
By  Pallas,  mountain-high  to  heaven 

A  giant  horse  uprear, 
And  with  compacted  beams  of  pine 
The  texture  of  its  ribs  entwine  : 
A  vow  for  their  return  they  feign, 
So  runs  the  tale,  and  spreads  amain. 
There  in  the  monster's  cavernous  side 
Huge  frames  of  chosen  chiefs  they  hide, 
And  steel-clad  soldiery  finds  room 
Within  that  death-producing  womb. 

This  huge  image  of  a  horse  the  Greeks  leave  on  shore,  and 
withdraw  in  their  ships  from  the  Trojans'  sight.  The  de- 
lighted Trojans  swarm  out  of  the  gates  to  survey  the  de- 
serted camp  of  the  Greeks.  One  of  them  proposes  that  they 
draw  the  colossal  horse  within  the  walls  of  the  city.  As  to 
the  expediency  of  this  there  are  conflicting  views,  and 
La-oc'o-on — note  the  name,  there  is  a  sequel  awaiting  associ- 
ated with  this  priest  of  Neptune — runs  down  to  discounte- 
nance the  project.  His  speech  is  full  of  prophet's  wisdom 
and  fire.  One  sententious  phrase  of  it  has  become  a  proverb  : 

Timeo  Danaos  et  dona  ferentes. 
Mr.  Conington  translates  : 

Whate'er  it  be,  a  Greek  I  fear 
Though  presents  in  his  hand  he  bear. 

Literally  translated  :  "  I  fear  the  Greeks,  even  bringing 
gifts."  Mr.  Morris  says  laboriously: 

Whatso  it  is,  the  Danaan  folk,  yea  gift-bearing,  I  fear. 

The  archaic  quaintness  everywhere  infused  by  Mr.  Morris 
into  his  version,  is  not  justified  by  any  corresponding  qual- 
ity in  Virgil.  The  enforced  accent  on  -ing  in  "  gift-bearing  " 
is  a  thing  to  be  endured  rather  than  to  be  enjoyed.  From 
Dryden,  you  would  not  suspect  that  there  was  any  thing 


Virgil.  267 

worthy  of  note  in  the  original.     Nothing  could  be  more  un- 
conscious and  commonplace  : 

Trust  not  their  presents  nor  admit  the  horse. 

The  disposition  to  be  made  of  the  horse  hangs  in  doubt, 
when  a  Greek  captive  is  brought  in  who  plays  a  very  deep 
part.  Si'non  is  the  man's  name.  On  the  desperate  chance 
of  getting  himself  believed  in  a  most  improbable  tale,  this 
man  has  risked  his  life  by  thus  throwing  himself  into  the 
power  of  the  Trojans.  He  pretends  to  have  escaped  from 
dreadful  death  at  the  hands  of  his  own  countrymen,  having 
been,  as  he  says,  destined  by  them  to  perish,  a  human  sacri- 
fice, for  their  safe  return  from  Troy.  Sinon  treats  the  Tro- 
jans to  a  rich  abuse  of  Ulysses,  which  naturally,  however 
illogically,  wins  their  trust  for  the  slanderer.  Interrupting 
himself  with  exquisite  art,  he  cries : 

But  why  a  tedious  tale  repeat, 

To  stay  you  from  your  morsel  sweet  ? 

If  all  are  equal,  Greek  and  Greek, 

Enough — your  tardy  vengeance  wreak  ; 

My  death  will  Ithacus  delight, 

And  Atreus'  sons  the  boon  requite. 

The  whole  incident  of  Sinon's  treachery  is  consummately 
well  managed  by  Virgil,  and  Mr.  Conington's  translation  is 
so  admirable,  that  we  have  to  put  force  upon  ourselves  to 
abridge  it  as  we  must.  The  upshot  is  that  Sinon  gets  him- 
self believed.  His  fetters  are  stricken  off  and,  at  Priam's 
kindly  challenge,  he  has  his  desired  chance  to  cheat  the 
Trojans  to  the  full,  under  sanction  of  protestations  volun- 
teered by  him  with  gratuitous  eloquence  of  perjury.  Tell 
us  honestly,  Sinon,  Priam  says,  What  does  the  horse  mean  ? 

Sinon's  satisfaction  to  the  old  king's  curiosity  is  ingen- 
iously fabricated.  He  says  that  Pallas  turned  against  the 
Greeks,  aggrieved  by  profanation  done  to  her  image  at  the 
hands  of  ruthless  Ulysses  and  Ty-di'des.  These  chieftains 
had  plucked  the  sacred  statue — Palladium,  it  was  called — 


268  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

from  its  scat  in  the  temple  in  Troy,  and  stained  it  with 
blood.  The  Greek  prophet  Calchas,  [Kal'kas,]  so  Sinon 
glibly  relates,  assures  his  countrymen  that  they  must  return 
home  and  there  renew  the  omens,  or  they  will  never  take  Troy. 
Meantime  they  fashion  the  colossal  horse  in  Pallas's  honor, 

An  image  for  an  image  given 
To  pacify  offended  Heaven. 

Calchas,  Sinon  with  skillful  surplusage  of  lying,  says,  bade 
the  Greeks  rear  the  horse  so  high  that  the  Trojans  could 
not  get  it  through  their  city  gates,  lest,  taken  within,  it  should 
make  Troy  impregnable,  and  endanger  Greece. 

To  second  and  support  the  lithe  lying  of  Sinon,  a  ghastly 
omen  fell.  Now  comes  in  the  story  of  Laocoon,  which  is  too 
famous  and  too  characteristic  of  Virgil  not  to  be  given  to 
our  readers  without  retrenchment,  as  Virgil  tells  it : 

Laocoon,  named  as  Neptune's  priest, 

Was  offering  up  the  victim  beast, 

When  lo  !  from  Tenedos — I  quail, 

E'en  now,  at  telling  of  the  tale — 

Two  monstrous  serpents  stem  the  tide, 

And  shoreward  through  the  stillness  glide. 

Amid  the  waves  they  rear  their  breasts, 

And  toss  on  high  their  sanguine  crests  ; 

The  hind  part  coils  along  the  deep, 

And  undulates  with  sinuous  sweep. 

The  lashed  spray  echoes  :  now  they  reach 

The  inland  belted  by  the  beach, 

And  rolling  bloodshot  eyes  of  fire, 

Dart  their  forked  tongue,  and  hiss  for  ire. 

We  fly  distraught ;  unswerving  they 

Toward  Laocoon  hold  their  way  ; 

First  round  his  two  young  sons  they  wreathe, 

And  grind  their  limbs  with  savage  teeth  : 

Then,  as  with  arms  he  comes  to  aid, 

The  wretched  father  they  invade 

And  twine  in  giant  folds  ;  twice  round 

His  stalwart  waist  their  spires  are  wound, 

Twice  round  his  n»ck,  while  over  all 

Their  heads  and  crests  tower  high  and  tall. 

He  strains  his  strength  their  knots  to  tear, 

While  gore  and  slime  his  fillets  smear, 

And  lo  the  unregardful  skies 

Sends  up  his  agonizing  cries  : 


Virgil. 


A  wounded  bull  such  moaning  makes, 
When  from  his  neck  the  axe  he  shakes, 
Ill-aimed,  and  from  the  altar  breaks. 
The  twin  destroyers  take  their  flight 
To  Pallas'  temple  on  the  height ; 
There  by  the  goddess'  feet  concealed 
They  lie  and  nestle  'neath  her  shield. 


269 


LAOCOON. 


No  wonder  that  the  Trojans  now,  seeing  an  apparent  pun- 
ishment so  dire   befall  Laocoon,  are  shocked  into  unquali- 


270  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

fied  credit  of  Sinon's  tale.  With  resistless  enthusiasm,  they 
rush  to  drag  the  fateful  horse  within  the  walls.  Virgil's  de- 
scription of  this  madness  and  this  action  is  instinct  with  fire. 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  refrain  from  swelling  our  volume 
to  admit  it  unabridged.  But  our  readers  will  have,  many  of 
them,  to  get  Mr.  Conington's  version,  and  read  the  whole 
^neid  for  themselves.  The  book  is  accessible  in  comely 
republication,  and  is  sold  at  a  reasonable  rate,  by  Messrs. 
A.  C.  Armstrong  &  Son — who  ought,  for  so  admirable  a 
work,  to  feel,  from  the  public,  demand  enough  to  justify 
them  in  making  the  plates  of  the  book  as  nearly  perfect  as 
possible.  (Let  them,  also,  strengthen  this  volume  of  transla- 
tion by  twinning  with  it  its  fellow  in  felicity  and  in  easy  su- 
premacy over  every  rival,  Mr.  Worsley's  version  of  the 
Odyssey.) 

The  sequel  of  the  contrivance  of  the  Wooden  Horse  is 

thus  told  : 

And  now  from  Tenedos  set  free 
The  Greeks  are  sailing  on  the  sea, 
Bound  for  the  shore  where  erst  they  lay, 
Beneath  the  still  moon's  friendly  ray  : 
When  in  a  moment  leaps  to  sight 
On  the  king's  ship  the  signal  light, 
And  Sinon,  screened  by  partial  fate, 
Unlocks  the  pine-wood  prison's  gate. 
The  horse  its  charge  to  aid  restores 
And  forth  the  armed  invasion  pours. 
Tliessander,  Sthenelus,  the  first, 
Slide  down  the  rope :   Ulysses  curst, 
Thoas  and  Acamas  are  there, 
And  great  Pel  ides'  youthful  heir, 
Machaon,  Menelaus,  last 
Epeus,  who  the  plot  forecast. 
They  seize  the  city,  buried  deep 
In  floods  of  revelry  and  sleep, 
Cut  down  the  warders  of  the  gates, 
And  introduce  their  conscious  mates. 

That  same  night  ^Eneas,  in  his  sleep,  is  visited  by  a  vision 
of  Hector.  Hector  bids  him  flee  from  the  doomed  city  and 
carry  Troy  to  other  shores.  The  frightful  hurly-burly  of  that 
night's  confused  fight  and  massacre,  mixed  with  conflagra- 


Virgil.  271 

tion,  is  powerfully  described  by  Virgil,  who.  as  usual,  is  pow- 
erfully translated  by  Mr.  Conington.  ^Eneas  wakes,  and 
climbs  to  the  palace-roof.  At  first  the  flaming  houses  fill  hi« 
sight.  His  ear  next  is  assailed  with  sound : 

Then  come  the  clamor  and  the  blare, 
And  shouts  and  clarions  rend  the  air. 

Virgil's  line  enjoys  great  renown  : 

Exoritur  clamorque  virum  clangorque  tubarum. 

Any  one  who  will  read  it  aloud,  pronouncing  the  Latin  after 
his  own  fashion,  whatever  that  fashion  be,  will  find  his 
mouth  filled  with  words,  and  his  ear  filled  with  sound.  It  is 
a  fine  example  of  consonance  between  sound  and  sense. 
Mr.  Morris,  in  his  line-for-line  style,  renders  thus : 

The  shout  of  men  ariseth  now,  and  blaring  of  the  horn. 
Tennyson's  rolling  crescendo,  in  the  Ode  on  Wellington, 

Followed  up  in  valley  and  glen 
With  blare  of  bugle,  clamor  of  men, 
Roll  of  cannon,  clash  of  arms, 
And  England  pouring  on  her  foes, 

owes  probably  its  second  line  to  a  recollection  of  Virgil  here. 
A  priest  of  Apollo,  escaped  from  the  marauding  Greeks, 
makes  his  way  to  the  house,  and  ^Eneas  asks  him  what  of 
the  night.     The  answer  contains  two  memorable  lines  : 

Venit  summa  dies  et  ineluctable  tempus 
Dardanins.     Fuimus  Troes,  fuit  Ilium  et  ingens 
Gloria  Teucrorum. 

Conington  renders : 

'Tis  come,  our  fated  day  of  death. 
We  have  been  Trojans  :  Troy  has  been : 
She  sat,  but  sits  no  more,  a  queen. 
Mr.  Morris  : 

,    Time  was,  the  Trojans  were  ;  time  was,  and  Ilium  stood  ;  time  was, 
And  glory  of  the  Teucrian  folk  ! 

No  translation  could  well  reproduce  the  solemn  and  lofty 
prophet-like  effect  of  the  original,  with  its  melancholy  pro- 


272 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


longation  of  words,  its  dense  brevity  withal,  its  inimitable 
choice  of  order  in  syntax.  Literally  it  reads:  "Has  come 
the  final  day,  and  the  not-to-be-struggled-out-of  occasion, 
to  Dardania.  We  have  been,  we  Trojans  ;  it  has  been,  the 
city  of  Ilium,  and  the  boundless  glory  of  the  sons  of  Teucer." 
The  perfect  tenses,  "We  have  been,"  and  "Troy  has 
been,"  are  examples,  magnificent  examples,  of  the  pregnant 
idiom  with  which  the  Romans  sometimes  expressed  great 
calamity  by  stopping  short  of  statement,  and  trusting  to 
irresistible  inference.  We  English-speakers  say,  "  He  is  no 
more ;  he  is  dead ;  "  the  Romans  sometime  said,  "  He  has 
been;  he  has  lived" — the  ap-o-si-o-pe'sis,  the  refusal  to 
speak,  being  more  eloquent  than  declaration. 

Among  the  touching  incidents  of 
the  last  night  of  Troy, with  which  the 
teeming  invention  of  Virgil  crowds 
his  swift-revolving  kaleidoscopic  nar- 
rative, there  is,  perhaps,  none  so  pa- 
thetic as  that  of  aged  Priam's  girding 
on  the  armor  of  his  youth,  to  sally  out 
and  do  battle  with  the  foe.  Hecuba, 
his  wife,  espies  him  in  his  panoply, 
and  exclaims  at  the  noble  madness 
of  the  old  man.  One  line  of  her  ex- 
clamation is,  almost  literally,  a  jewel, 
such  as  Tennyson  (in  a  phrase,  itself 
also  such  a  jewel)  describes  in  The 
Princess, 


PRIAM. 


jewels  five-words-long 

That  on  the  stretched  forefinger  of  all  Time 
Sparkle  forever  : 

Non  tali  auxilio  nee  defensoribus  istis. 

The  full  Virgilian   sentence    adds    the    two  words,  Tcmpits 
egct ;  the  sense  being,  "  Not  aid  such  as  yours,  nor  defenders 


Virgil.  273 

like  you,  does  the  occasion  demand."  Some,  however,  of  the 
best  Latin  scholars  find  here  a  meaning  considerably  differ- 
ent, namely,  "  Not  aid  of  such  a  sort  as  arms  afford,  nor  weap- 
ons like  those  you  bring,  will  answer  the  present  need,"  (we 
must  pray  rather  than  fight.)  Mr.  Conington,  accordingly, 
with  bold  freedom,  translates  : 

times  so  dire 
Bent  knees,  not  lifted  arms,  require — 

a  rendering  which,  even  be  the  general  meaning  granted,  the 
ambiguity  in  the  word  "  arms,"  and  the  doubtful  symbolism 
of"  lifted,"  qualifying  "arms,"  combine  to  make  not  entirely 
happy.  Difference  of  view  on  a  sentence  apparently  so  simple 
may  surprise  our  readers.  None  the  less,  it  is  part  of  desirable 
knowledge  to  know  thfct  such  difference  of  view  exists.  The 
applications  are  manifold,  in  which  this  famous  line  of  Vir- 
gil's continues,  and  will  always  continue,  to  be  quoted  in 
all  literatures  that  have  any  relation  with  the  literature  of 
Rome. 

The  end  of  Priam  comes  by  the  hand  of  Pyrrhus,  son  of 
Achilles.  Priam  had  just  seen  his  own  son  Po-li'tes  slain 
at  his  very  feet  by  Pyrrhus,  and  with  aged  ire  had  up- 
braided the  slayer  as  degenerate  offspring  of  an  illustrious 
sire.  He  had  even  hurled  against  Pyrrhus  an  impotent 
weapon.  Now  a  few  lines  of  Virgil  according  to  Conington  : 

Then  Pyrrhus  :   "  Take  the  news  below, 
And  to  my  sire  Achilles  go  : 
Tell  him  of  his  degenerate  seed, 
And  that  and  this  my  bloody  deed. 
Now  die  :  "  and  to  the  altar-stone 

Along  the  marble  floor 
He  dragged  the  father  sliddering  on 

E'en  in  his  child's  own  gore  : 
His  left  hand  in  his  hair  he  wreathed, 

While  with  the  right  he  plied 
His  flashing  sword,  and  hilt-deep  sheathed 

Within  the  old  man's  side. 
So  Priam's  fortunes  closed  at  last : 
So  passed  he,  seeing  as  he  passed 
12* 


274  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

II is  Troy  in  flames,  his  royal  tower 
Laid  low  in  dust  by  hostile  power. 
'Who  once  o'er  land  and  peoples  proud 
Sat,  while  before  him  Asia  bowed  : 
Now  on  the  shore  behold  him  dead, 
A  nameless  trunk,  a  trunkless  head. 

The  last  line  of  Conington  affords  an  admirable  instance  of 
this  accomplished  translator's  quality  as  rhetorician  rather 
lhan  poet.  What  consummate  rhetoric  is 

A  nameless  trunk,  a  trunkless  head  ! 

The  sense  is  exactly  Virgil's,  the  rhetoric  exactly  Coning- 
ton's.  That  repetition,  in  transposed  order,  of  the  word 
trunk — it  is  brilliant,  but  it  is  too  brilliant.  It  is  rhetoric 
rather  than  poetry. 

No  wonder  pious  ^neas  was  horrified.  No  wonder  he 
thought  of  his  own  father  Anchises.  In  his  craze,  he  was 
tempted  to  lift  his  hand  against  Argive  Helen,  seen  by  him 
crouching  in  the  temple  of  Vesta.  But  his  mother  Venus 
came  between,  confessing  the  goddess  in  her  august  Olym- 
pian grace,  and  ^Eneas  was  saved  acknowledging  to  a  woman 
the  sorry  prowess  of  a  woman  slain  by  his  hand.  Venus  ex- 
horted her  son  to  look  after  his  father,  his  wife,  and  his  boy. 
She  promised  him  safe  conduct  to  his  own  dwelling.  His 
eye-sight  should  be  clarified  to  see  with  more  than  mortal 
vision: 

That  vision  showed  me  Neptune's  town 

In  blazing  ruin  sinking  down: 

As  rustics  strive  with  many  a  stroke 

To  fell  some  venerable  oak  ; 

It  still  keeps  nodding  to  its  doom. 

Still  bows  its  head,  and  shakes  its  plume, 

Till,  by  degrees  o'ercome,  one  groan 

It  heaves,  and  on  the  hill  lies  prone. 

Mr.  Conington  transforms  the  tree  in  this  comparison  from 
mountain-ash  (Virgil's  species)  to  oak. 

Have  we  perhaps  a  reader  here  or  there  who  will  remem- 
ber that  in  our  preceding  chapter,  "  The  City  and  the 


Virgil.  275 

People,"  the  author  himself  used  this  very  image  of  Virgil's, 
the  slow-descending  oak,  to  set  forth  the  decline  and  fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire  ?  It  was  either  a  coincidence  of  inde- 
pendent thought  in  two  writers,  or  else  it  was  a  case  of  un- 
remembered  influence  received  by  the  later  from  the  elder. 
However,  the  image  as  used  by  Virgil  illustrates  the  fall  of  a 
city,  by  conflagration,  accomplished  in  a  night;  the  image  as 
used  by  the  present  writer  illustrated  the  decadence  of  an 
empire  slowly  proceeding  through  centuries  of  time.  Ap- 
propriately, Virgil's  tree,  symbolizing  Troy,  falls  und«r  strokes 
of  an  axe ;  while  our  oak,  symbolizing  the  Roman  Empire, 
was  conceived  of  as  succumbing  to  secular  influences  of 
natural  decay. 

The  saviour  son  ^Eneas  has  trouble  with  his  spirited  old 
father,  who  refuses  to  be  saved.  Whereupon  ^Eneas  is  as 
spirited  as  he,  and,  unrestrained  by  his  wife  Cre-u'-sa's  en- 
treaty, is  on  the  point  of  rushing  forth  again  into  the  street 
brim  with  its  battle  and  flame,  when,  behold  a  prodigy! 
A  lovely  lambent  flame  lights  on  the  head  of  little  lulus,  as 
his  mother  is  eloquently  presenting  him  in  argument  to  his 
father.  The  parents  try  to  quench  it,  but  prophetic  grand- 
father Anchises  is  enraptured  at  the  sight.  He  prays  for 
confirmation  of  the  omen.  A  clap  of  thunder  on  the  left, 
and  a  sliding  meteor  above  the  palace-roof!  Anchises 
chants — but  we  should  profane  a  holy  phrase  with  such 
an  application — we  were  about  to  say  his  "  Nunc  dimittis  " 
— Anchises,  in  short,  now  consents  to  flee  with  ^Eneas.  The 
pious  son  arranges  a  place  of  meeting  for  Creusa,  outside  the 
city,  and  starts,  bearing  his  father  on  his  shoulders  and 
leading  his  boy  by  the  hand — an  immortal  picture  of  filial 
fidelity. 

Creusa  got  parted  from  her  company  and  met  a  fate  un- 
known. yEneas  did  what  a  faithful  husband  was  bound  to 
do ;  he  returned  to  the  city  in  search  of  his  wife.  Her 
specter  met  him  and  bade  him  fare  well.  She  was  not  to  be 


276 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


his  companion.  He  tried  to  embrace  her,  but  he  embraced 
emptiness.  ./Eneas  was  wifeless. 

The  second  book  ends  with  ^Eneas's  return  to  his  father 
and  son,  where  he  had  left  them  in  order  to  seek  his  wife. 
He  there  found  a  number  of  Trojans  ready  to  join  their  fate 
with  his. 

The  third  book  is  crowded  with  matter;  but  we  must  dis- 
pose of  it  very  briefly.  This  we  may  the  better  do,  since  it 
it  is  pretty  close  imitation  of  the  Odyssey,  and  the  Odyssey 
has  in  a  former  volume  of  this  series  been  somewhat  largely 
represented. 

tineas,  in  this  third  book,  tells  of  seven  years'  wanderings 


SCYLLA. 

with  his  fleet — seven  years,  short  by  the  one  winter  which 
the  wanderers  spend,  to  begin  with,  in  building  ships.  The 
season  following,  the  Trojans  visit  Thrace,  and  found  a 
town.  Hence  they  are  driven  forth  by  a  dire  prodigy, 
^neas,  sacrificing  to  Jupiter,  plucks,  to  garland  the  altars,  a 
sapling  which  from  the  wound  trickles  gore.  A  second 


Virgil.  277 

time,  and  a  third,  this  happens,  and  the  third  time  a  "  lament- 
able sound  "  issues  from  the  earth.  It  cries  to  yEneas  : 

Trojan,  not  alien  is  the  blood 
That  oozes  from  the  uptorn  wood. 
Fly  this  fell  soil,  these  greedy  shores : 
The  voice  you  hear  is  Polydore's. 

Polydore,  (Polydorus,)  it  seems,  was  a  Trojan  who  had  been 
sent  by  Priam,  bearing  treasure  to  be  stored  in  trust  with  the 
Thracian  king — this,  in  preparation  for  the  downfall  feared 
of  Troy.  The  Thracian  king  turned  traitor,  and,  making  an 
end  of  Polydorus,  seized  his  trust  of  treasure.  Now  comes 
a  phrase  of  Virgil's  that  men  often  quote,  "  auri  sacra  fames," 
"  accursed  hunger  for  gold  " — so  literally,  but  since  thirst 
and  hunger  are  twin  appetites  guardian  of  life,  Conington 
is  well  enough  justified  in  seeking  his  rhyme,  by  saying,  as 

he  does : 

Fell  lust  of  gold  !  abhorred,  accurst ! 
What  will  not  men  to  slake  such  thirst  ? 

(The  last  line  has  its  equivalent  in  the  Latin.)  English 
readers  looking  at  the  Latin  word  "sacra"  may  naturally  be 
surprised  to  see  it  translated  (the  opposite  of  what  it  should 
seem  to  mean)  "accursed."  "Sacred,"  rather,  you  would 
be  inclined  to  guess.  This  is  the  explanation :  The  word 
first  means,  "  dedicated,  devoted  to  the  gods."  Then  "de- 
voted in  order  to  be  destroyed,"  whence,  by  easy  transition, 
"accursed,"  "detestable." 

From  Thrace  faring,  yEneas  next  came  to  Delos,  the  fable 
of  which  is  that  it  was  a  floating  island  until  fixed  and 
anchored  by  Phoebus  Apollo  to  be  the  seat  of  his  oracle. 

In  Delos,  tineas  prays  to  Apollo.  With  memorable 
pathos  he  calls  himself  and  his  companions  by  the  repeated 
phrase,  our  readers  will  remember  it, 

relliquias  Danaum  atque  immitis  Achilli. 

yEneas  gets  an  answer  which  Anchises  interprets  into  sail- 
ing directions  to  the  company  for  Crete,  whither  accordingly 


278  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  Trojans  sail,  only  to  suffer  there  from  pestilence,  until, 
about  to  send  back  again  for  instruction  explanatory  of  in- 
struction, they  receive  distinct  warning  from  their  own 
household  gods,  brought  with  them  in  Anchises'  hands  from 
Ilium,  that  Italy  was  their  true  destination.  Another  chance 
is  thus  offered  for  a  strain  of  prediction  about  the  future 
glories  of  Rorjie.  The  appetite  for  this  sort  of  thing  that 
Virgil  could  calculate  on  with  Romans  in  general,  and  with 
the  emperor  in  particular,  must  have  been  immense.  Prob- 
ably it  grew  by  what  Virgil  fed  it  on.  Praise  well  served  is 
an  extremely  dainty  dish.  Such  Frederick  the  Great  found  it, 
when  Voltaire  was  the  cook,  accomplished  as  that  French- 
man was,  to  more  than  the  national  degree  of  skill  in  this 
culinary  art. 

So  to  sea  once  more.  Out  of  sight  of  land  they  find  them- 
selves, those  Trojans  ;  and  Virgil,  through  ^Eneas,  makes  a 
point  of  it.  His  expression, 

coelum  undique  et  undique  pontus, 

— sky  everywhere  and  everywhere  sea,  is  famous.  The  chi- 
asm  in  it,  that  is,  the  transposed  construction — the  word  for 
"  everywhere,"  as  you  will  observe,  occupying  exchanged 
positions  in  the  two  clauses — is  a  fine  stroke  of  literary  art. 

Of  the  Ulyssean  adventures  that  befell  ^neas  on  his  voy- 
age, we  skip,  among  others,  the  incident  of  the  harpies,  and 
come  to  the  story  of  the  Cyclops.  But  we  ought  to  tell  our 
readers  that  meantime  it  has  chanced  to  ^Eneas  to  meet  an 
old  Trojan  friend  in  Hel'e-nus,  who,  singularly  enough,  has 
mated  with  An-drom'a-che,  Hector's  wife,  and,  by  a  variety  of 
circumstances  has,  with  her,  succeeded,  he  a  Trojan,  to  a 
Grecian  crown.  From  Helenus,  acting  in  his  quality  of 
priest  to  Apollo,  ^Eneas  gets  yet  again  a  prophecy  of  what 
awaits  him.  This  time,  however,  the  prediction  concerns 
itself  chiefly  with  the  immediate  future,  the  period,  namely, 
of  yEneas's  wanderings  still  to  be  accomplished. 


Visgil. 


279 


Virgil,  with  obvious  ingenuity  of  joinery,  pieces  his  own 
account  of  the  Cyclops  upon  that  of  his  master.  He  makes 
./Eneas  encounter  a  forlorn  Greek — it  is  a  wonder  that,  with 
the  Trojans,  the  thought  of  Sinon  did  not  inopportunely 
occur,  to  be  the  instant  death  of  the  man — who  says  that 
his  fellows  in  misery  inadvertently  left  him  behind,  flying 
wildly  from  the  dreadful  neighborhood.  The  Greek — he  had 
a  long  name,  Ach'e-men'i-des  [Ak] — describes  the  monster 
Cyclops  and  his  den. 


SIRENS. 


Let  us  have   a  change. 
Conington   to    Mr.    Morris, 
grateful  to  some  readers. 


We  go  for  this  once  from   Mr. 
The  change   will    perhaps  be 


A  house  of  blood  and  bloody  meat,  most  huge  from  end  to  end, 

Mirky  within  :  high  up  aloft  star-smiting  to  behold 

Is  he  himself ; — such  bane,  O  God,  keep  thou  from  field  and  fold ! 

Scarce  may  a  man  look  on  his  face  ;  no  word  to  him  is  good  ; 

On  wretches'  entrails  doth  he  feed  and  black  abundant  blood. 

Myself  I  saw  him  of  our  folk  two  hapless  bodies  take 

In  his  huge  hand,  whom  straight  he  fell  athwart  a  stone  to  break 

As  there  he  lay  upon  his  back  ;  I  saw  the  threshold  swim 

With  spouted  blood,  I  saw  him  grind  each  bloody  dripping  limb, 


280  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

I  saw  the  joints  amidst  his  teeth  all  warm  and  quivering  still. 

— He  payed  therefor,  for  never  might  Ulysses  bear  such  ill, 

Nor  was  he  worser  than  himself  in  such  a  pinch  bestead  : 

For  when  with  victual  satiate,  deep  sunk  in  wine,  his  head 

Fell  on  his  breast,  and  there  he  lay  enormous  through  the  den, 

Snorting  out  gore  amidst  his  sleep,  with  gobbets  of  the  men 

And  mingled  blood  and  wine  ;  then  we  sought  the  great  gods  with  prayer, 

And  drew  the  lots,  and  one  and  all  crowded  about  him  there, 

And  bored  out  with  a  sharpened  pike  the  eye  that  used  to  lurk 

Enormous  lonely  'neatli  his  brow  o'erhanging  grim  and  mirk. 

While  the  wretched  Greek  was  yet  speaking,  Pol'y-phe'mus, 
the  blinded  Cyclops,  appears.  Conington  : 

A  pine-tree,  plucked  from  earth,  makes  strong 
His  tread,  and  guides  his  steps  along. 

Readers  of  Milton  will  recall  ("  Paradise  Lost,"  i,  292) 

His  spear,  to  equal  which  the  tallest  pine, 
Hewn  on  Norwegian  hills  to  be  the  mast 
Of  some  great  ammiral,  were  but  a  wand, 
He  walked  with  to  support  uneasy  steps 
Over  the  burning  marie, 

which  presents  the  same  picture — in  Milton  heightened  to 
correspond  justly  with  the  larger  and  sublimer  scale  of  the 
general  representation. 

The  last  thing  told  by  ^Eneas  before  the  incident  of  his 
landing  on  the  Carthaginian  coast  is  the  death  of  his  father 
Anchises,  which,  like  the  dutiful  son  that  vEneas  was,  and 
affectionate,  he  bewails  in  sweet  and  pathetic  verse. 

The  feast  was  ended,  and  the  long  recital  of  ^Eneas. 

The  fourth  book  is  devoted  to  the  sad  tale  of  Dido  and 
her  fatal  passion  for  her  guest.  The  episode  is  interesting,  but 
it  has  not  the  interest  of  a  story  of  love,  such  as  Christianity, 
with  its  gospel  of  woman's  equality  with  man,  has  taught  us 
moderns  to  understand  love  between  the  sexes.  Of  that  love, 
pagan  antiquity  knew  nothing.  The  relation  between  Dido 
and  ^neas  was  not  one  of  true  love,  but  one  of  passion,  in 
which  the  passion  was  chiefly  on  the  hapless  woman's  side. 
We  moderns  cannot  enter  into  the  sympathy  of  it.  Dido 


Virgil.  281 

you  pity  indeed,  but  hardly  respect.  You  feel  more  satis- 
faction in  heartily  execrating  ^Eneas  with  his  everlastingly 
applauded  piety.  You  wish  he  were  a  little  less  pious  and 
a  little  more  honorable. 

There  are  celebrated  passages  of  fine  poetry  in  this  book 
which  we  must  lay  before  our  readers  ;  but  poor  Dido's  moon- 
struck maunderings  to  her  confidant  sister  Anna,  together 
with  her  love-sick  wheedling  of  ^Eneas  kind,  and  her  crazy 
objurgation  of  ./Eneas  treacherous — this  detail  may  well  be 
spared.  Virgil  does  it  all  with  great  skill,  displaying  in  it 
great  knowledge  of  the  human  heart.  But  the  story  rather 
revolts  the  modern  taste.  Let  us  pass  it.  The  short  of  it 
is  that  Dido  helplessly  burns  for  JEneas,  that  ^Eneas  ruins 
Dido  and  deserts  her,  and  that  then  Dido  takes  refuge  in 
suicide,  having  first  provided  to  perish  in  a  funeral  pyre  that 
shall  flame  high  enough  to  be  a  baleful  sign  to  yEneas  off  at 
sea.  Thus  is  a  quasi- historic  reason  found  or  feigned  by 
Virgil  for  the  immortal  enmity  that  subsisted  between  Car- 
thaginian and  Roman  blood.  It  should  be  said  that  the 
rascal  Olympian  divinities  come  in  to  be,  as  usual,  mutually 
antagonist  artificers  of  fraud. 

After  Dido's  fall,  she  seeks  at  once  to  cover  her  disgrace : 

She  calls  it  marriage  now  ;  such  name 
She  chooses  to  conceal  her  shame. 

What  follows  is  perhaps  as  famous  a  passage  as  any  in  an- 
cient poetry.  It  is  a  magnificent  description  of  fame,  report, 
or  rumor  personified — gossip,  we  might  familiarly  call  the 
creature : 

Now  through  the  towns  of  Libya's  sons 

Her  progress  Fame  begins, 
Fame  than  who  never  plague  that  runs 

Its  way  more  swiftly  wins  ; 
Her  very  motion  lends  her  power  ; 
She  flies  and  waxes  every  hour. 
At  first  she  shrinks,  and  cowers  for  dread  : 

Ere  long  she  soars  on  high : 
Upon  the  ground  she  plants  her  tread, 

Her  forehead  in  the  sky. 


282 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


Wroth  with  Olympus,  parent  Earth 
Brought  forth  the  monster  to  the  light, 

Last  daughter  of  the  giant  birth, 

With  feet  and  rapid  wings  for  flight. 

Huge,  terrible,  gigantic  Fame  ! 

For  every  plume  that  clothes  her  frame 

An  eye  beneath  the  feather  peeps, 

A  tongue  rings  loud,  an  ear  upleaps. 

Hurtling  "twixt  earth  and  heaven  she  flies 

By  night,  nor  bows  to  sleep  her  eyes  ; 

Perched  on  a  roof  or  tower  by  day 

She  fills  great  cities  with  dismay  ; 

How  oft  soe'er  the  truth  she  tell. 

She  loves  a  falsehood  all  too  well. 

A  nice  critical  assay  would  perhaps  find  in  the  foregoing 

brilliant  lines  from  Virgil 
as  much  alloy  of  rhetoric 
as  verse  will  bear  and  still 
keep  to  a  high  standard 
of  poetical  purity. 

Here  is  another  fine  pas- 
sage. It  is  descriptive  of 
night — the  calm  night  on 
which,  while  wakeful  Di- 
do communed  with  her- 
self about  ways  of  yet  re- 
gaining her  lover,  that 
lover,  himself  first  roused 
by  Mercury,  messenger 
of  Jove,  roused  in  turn 
his  men,  and  faithlessly, 
though  piously,  set  sail  for 
Italy.  The  contrast  of  the 

universal  quiet,  in  a  few  strokes  so  strongly  depicted,  with 

Dido's  unrest, is  very  effective: 

'Tis  night :  earth's  tired  ones  taste  the  balm, 
The  precious  balm  of  sleep, 
And  in  the  forest  there  is  calm, 
And  on  the  savage  deep: 


MERCURY   CONVEYING  THE   MESSAGE 
OF  JUPITER. 


Virgil.  283 

The  stars  are  in  their  middle  flight : 

The  fields  are  hushed  :  each  bird  or  beast 

That  dwells  beside  the  silver  lake 

Or  haunts  the  tangles  of  the  brake 
In  placid  slumber  lies,  released 

From  trouble  by  the  touch  of  night ; 

All  but  the  hapless  queen. 

Queen  Dido  wakes  and  soliloquizes;  ^Eneas  sleeps  and 
dreams.  He  dreaming,  Mercury  presents  himself  to  him 
with  a  message. 

Away  to  sea !  a  woman's  will 

Is  changeful  and  uncertain  still, 

is  the  gist  and  the  close  of  Mercury's  communication.  The 
Latin  almost  translates  itself,  to  the  English  reader : 

Varium  et  mutabile  semper 
Femina — 

"  a  thing  moody  and  mutable  ever — woman, "  we  may  ren- 
der it  literally.  It  was,  of  course,  a  slant  at  Dido  through 
a  generalization  assailing  her  sex.  A  fit  brave  sentiment 
truly  for  such  a  man  as  ^Eneas  to  meditate !  Compare  and 
contrast  with  that  of  Virgil  this  of  Scott's  : 

O  woman  !  in  our  hours  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please, 
And  variable  as  the  shade 
By  the  light  quivering  aspen  made  ; 
When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow, 
A  ministering  angel  thou  ! 

The  difference  of  sentiment  is,  of  course,  partly  a  difference 
created  by  the  difference  of  occasion ;  but  are  we  not  all 
conscious  that  there  is  a  feeling  in  Scott  of  which,  less  per- 
haps by  his  own  individual  character  than  by  the  fortune  of 
his  historic  position, Virgil  was  incapable?  Human  thought 
and  feeling  have  been  marvelously  transposed  by  Christian- 
ity to  a  different  key.  Here,  however,  is  a  sentiment  that 
would  not  read  out  of  place  in  Scott,  attributed  to  one  of  his 
proud  fierce  chieftain  warriors  : 


284 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 


Let  the  false  Dardan  feel  the  blaze 
That  burns  me  pouring  on  his  gaze, 
And  bear  along,  to  cheer  his  way, 
The  funeral  presage  of  to-day. 

These  are  the  suicide  queen-lover's  very  last  words. 

on  his  part,  pitied  Dido,  perhaps  dropped  some  tears  over 


DIDO  S   DEATH. 

her  fate — about  as  he  might  pour  a  libation  to  the  gods  and 
think  of  it  no  more — pious  soul,  intent  he  on  his  mission  of 
founding  an  empire. 

The  fifth  book  is  largely  occupied  with  an  elaborate  ac- 
count of  games  celebrated  on  a  friendly  shore  by  the  Trojans 
under  the  imperio-paternal  eye  of  ^neas,  in  honor  of  the 
anniversary  of  his  father  Anchises'  death.  They  had  a  galley- 
race,  a  foot-race,  a  boxing-match,  a  trial  of  archery,  and,  to 
crown  all,  a  gallant  competition  of  horsemanship  in  mimic 
tournament,  on  the  part  of  the  boys.  Virgil  here  accounts 
for  the  origin  of  the  Ludus  Trojanus,  a  public  game  so  called 
prevalent  in  his  own  time  at  Rome — an  adjustment  of  his 
poem  to  the  popular  pleasure  quite  characteristic  of  the 
genius  and  complaisance  of  this  pre-eminently  national  poet. 

We  shall  not  follow  the  vicissitudes  of  the  fortune  of  the 


Virgil. 


285 


sports  engaged  in  by  the  Trojans,  which,  however,  we  may 
say,  in  passing,  are  cunningly  shaken  up  and  fitted  in  the 
kaleidoscope  of  deft  invention.  There  is  mischance  and 
laughter — Roman  laughter,  not  Greek — mixed  with  the  am- 
bitions, the  strivings,  the  victories,  the  defeats,  that  attend  the 
games.  "  Good  ^Eneas,"  as  Mr.  Conington,  partly  in  defer- 
ence to  modern  taste  perhaps,  and  partly  in  concession  to 
the  needs  of  his  measure,  translates  Virgil's  reiterated  "pious 
yEneas  " — good,  or  pious,  ^neas,  (pious,  we,  for  our  part, 


should  say,  rather  than  good,)  makes  every  body  fairly  happy 
at  last  by  lavishly  distributing  gifts  all  around — to  the  victo- 
rious as  prizes,  to  the  defeated  as  solaces. 

Now  let  us  be  free  to  go  skimming  over  the  surface  of 
book  fifth,  and  take  off  the  summa,  as  perhaps  the  Latin- 
speakers  might  say,  the  cream,  say  we,  of  the  rhetoric  and 
poetry  which  it  contains. 

There  are  several  consecutive  lines  standing  near  the  out- 
set of  this  book  which  Virgil  very  closely  repeats  from  book 
third.  Mr.  Conington  translates  as  if  the  repetition  were 
more  nearly  exact  than  it  really  is.  The  fact  would  seem  to 
be  that  Virgil,  conscious  of  repeating  himself,  aimed  at  va- 
riation. For  instance,  Conington  translates  both  times, 

On  every  side  the  watery  plain, 
On  every  side  the  expanse  of  sky, 


2 S6  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

whereas  Virgil  once  says  that,  and  the  other  time  says, 

On  every  side  the  expanse  of  sky, 
On  every  side  the  watery  plain, 

using,  however,  in  the  two  cases  different  words  for  "watery 
plain,"  that  is,  the  sea.  One  is  a  little  surprised  that  Mr. 
Morris  here  did  not  obey  the  logic  of  his  method  in  trans- 
lation and  vary  his  order  of  words  to  follow  Virgil's  varied 
order. 

In  the  part  about  the  galley-race  (this  is  a  rowing-match) 
occurs  that  memorable  expression  which  some  readers  per- 
haps will  recollect  the  present  writer  alluded  to  in  applica- 
tion to  Marius.  It  is  very  neatly  rendered  by  Mr.  Conington  : 

They  can,  because  they  think  they  can. 

Confidence  of  success  certainly  is  a  great  help  to  succeeding. 
,  Possunt,  quia  posse  videntur 

is  the  Virgil  of  it — "  they  are  able  because  they  seem  [to 
themselves]  to  be  able." 

At  the  end  of  the  trial  in  archery — the  first  bowman  has 
sent  his  arrow  into  the  wood  of  the  mast  to  which  the  dove 
was  tied,  the  second  has  with  his  shaft  cut  the  binding  cord, 
a  third  has  pierced  the  flying  bird  in  air;  happy  climax  of 
marksmanship,  for  the  marksman  happy,  unhappy  for  the 
mark ! — at  the  end  of  all  this,  we  say,  Acestes,  the  host  of 
the  Trojan  wanderers,  disappointed  of  his  chance  to  shoot, 
discharges  his  arrow  aimlessly  into  the  sky.  Hereupon  a 
prodigy — for  which  we  moderns  care  nothing,  but  the  simile 
that  describes  it  is  worth  quoting : 

E'en  in  the  mid  expanse  of  skies 
The  arrow  kindles  as  it  flies, 
Behind  it  draws  a  fiery  glare, 
Then  wasting,  vanishes  in  air: 
So  stars,  dislodged,  athwart  the  night 
Career  and  trail  a  length  of  light. 


Virgil.  287 

Virgil's  similes  are  thick-sown,  not  however  with  unwise 
plenty,  through  his  verse.  They  are  almost  always  lucky 
likenesses,  and  luckily  set  off— luckily,  with  that  careful  good 
luck  which  is  called  curiosa  felicitas,  curious  felicity. 

The  Trojans'  stay  with  Acestes  is  marked  by  a  sinister  in- 
cident. The  Trojan  women  being  apart  by  themselves  dur- 
ing the  games  are  instigated  by  a  disguised  emissary  from 
Juno  to  set  fire  to  the  fleet.  A  timely  shower  from  Jupiter 
stays  the  conflagration,  but  not  before  four  ships  have  been 
consumed,  ^sneas  decides  to  build  a  town  on  the  coast  for 
those  of  his  company  who  prefer  not  to  go  farther.  With 
embraces  and  with  tears  they  part,  those  who  go,  from  those 
who  stay.  On  the  smooth  sail  to  Cumse,  Pal'i-nu'rus,  the  pilot 
of  ^Eneas's  vessel,  falls  overboard  asleep  and  is  drowned.  It 
was  the  trick  of  the  god  Sleep.  So  ends  the  fifth  book. 

The  sixth  book  is  a  long  and  splendid  tract  of  poetry.  The 
matter  of  it  is  ^Eneas's  descent  into  Hades.  This  descent  is 
accomplished  with  much  antecedent  as  well  as  accompany- 
ing circumstance  and  ceremony.  Resort  is  had  to  the  resi- 
dence of  the  Sibyl  at  Cumse  (Cuma).  This  famous  mythical 
personage  is  a  well-known  subject  in  the  modem  painter's 
art.  She  i?  thus  introduced  by  Virgil : 

Within  the  mountain's  hollow  side 
A  cavern  stretches  high  and  wide  ; 
A  hundred  entries  thither  lead  ; 
A  hundred  voices  thence  proceed, 
Fach  uttering  forth  the  Sibyl's  rede. 
The  sacred  threshold  now  they  trod  : 
"  Pray  for  an  answer  !  pray  !  the  god," 

She  cries,  "  the  god  is  nigh  !  " 
And  as  before  the  doors  in  view 
She  stands,  her  visage  pales  its  hue, 
Her  locks  dishevelled  fly, 

Her  breath  comes  thick,  her  wild  heart  glows. 
Dilating  as  'he  madness  grows, 
Her  form  look?  larger  to  the  eye, 
Unearthly  peals  her  deep-toned  cry, 
As  breathing  nearer  and  more  rear 
The  god  comes  rushing  on  his  seer. 


288  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

"  So  slack  "  cries  she  "  at  work  divine  ? 
Pray,  Trojan,  pray  !  not  else  the  shrine 
Its  spell-bound  silence  breaks." 

Thus  adjured,  ^Eneas  fell  to  praying  with  pious  pagan  zeal. 
The  result  was  marked  and  immediate.  The  maiden  seer  is 
as  drunk  as  a  pantheist  with  god,  that  is,  with  Apollo: 

The  seer,  impatient  of  control, 

Raves  in  the  cavern  vast, 
And  madly  struggles  from  her  soul 

The  incumbent  power  to  cast : 
He,  mighty  Master,  plies  the  more 
Her  foaming  mouth,  all  chafed  and  sore, 
Tames  her  wild  heart  with  plastic  hand, 
And  makes  her  docile  to  command. 
Now,  all  untouched,  the  hundred  gates 
Fly  open,  and  proclaim  the  fates. 

The  fates  are  trouble,  ending  in  conquest,  for  ^neas.  The 
prophet-maid  has  a  dreadful  convulsion  all  the  time,  which 
^neas  waits  to  see  a  little  composed  before  he  boastfully 
prefers  his  request  to  be  admitted  to  the  lower  world.  The 
Sibyl  told  him,  in  words  that  have  become  as  famous  as  any 

in  poetry, 

facilis  descensus  Averni, 

Etc., 

which  Mr.  Conington  translates: 

The  journey  down  to  the  abyss 

Is  prosperous  and  light : 
The  palace-gates  of  gloomy  Dis 

Stand  open  day  and  night : 
But  upward  to  retrace  the  way 
And  pass  into  the  light  of  day 
There  comes  the  stress  of  labor  ;  this 

May  task  a  hero's  might. 

She  uses  powerfully  deterrent  language,  but  bids  JEneas,  if 
he  still  will  try  the  journey,  go  into  the  woods  and  look  till 
he  finds  a  certain  mystic  golden  bough  which  may  serve  as 
passport  to  the  regions  of  the  dead.  With  much  ado,  this 
branch  is  found.  Then  sacrifice  is  offered  and,  with  a 
warning  cry,  "Back,  ye  unhallowed,"  to  all  besides,  she  in- 
vites ^Eneas  to  follow  her  and  plunges  into  the  cave. 


Virgil.  289 

Here  Virgil  puts  up  a  prayer  in  his  own  behalf  for  per- 
mission to  go  on  and  tell  what  he  has  resolved  on  telling : 

Eternal  Powers,  whose  sway  controls 

The  empire  of  departed  souls, 

Ye  too,  throughout  whose  wide  domain 

Black  Night  and  grisly  Silence  reign, 

Hoar  Chaos,  awful  Phlegethon, 

What  ear  has  heard  let  tongue  make  known  : 

Vouchsafe  your  sanction,  nor  forbid 

To  utter  things  in  darkness  hid. 

Permitted  or  not,  Virgil  proceeds  with  his  disclosure.     Of 
^Eneas  and  his  guide,  he  says  : 

Along  the  illimitable  shade 

Darkling  and  lone  their  way  they  made, 

Through  the  vast  kingdom  of  the  dead, 

An  empty  void,  though  tenanted  : 

So  travelers  in  a  forest  move 

With  but  the  uncertain  moon  above, 

Beneath  her  niggard  light, 
When  Jupiter  has  hid  from  view 
The  heaven,  and  Nature's  every  hue 

Is  lost  in  blinding  night. 

The  shapes  that  haunt,  as  porters   and  portresses,  about 
the  entrance  of  Hades  are  a  grim  group : 

At  Orcus"  portals  hold  their  lair 
Wild  Sorrow  and  avenging  Care  ; 
And  pale  Diseases  cluster  there, 

And  pleasureless  Decay, 
Foul  Penury,  and  Fears  that  kill. 
And  Hunger,  counselor  of  ill, 

A  ghastly  presence  they  : 
Suffering  and  Death  the  threshold  keep 
And  with  them  Death's  blood-brother,  Sleep  : 
111  Joys  with  their  seducing  spells 

And  deadly  War  are  at  the  door ; 
The  Furies  couch  in  iron  cells 
And  Discord  maddens  and  rebels; 

Her  snake-locks  hiss,  her  wreaths  drip  gore. 

The  description  of  the  journey  proceeds  : 

The  threshold  passed,  the  road  leads  on 
To  Tartarus  and  to  Acheron. 
At  distance  rolls  the  infernal  flood, 
Seething  and  swollen  with  turbid  mud, 
13 


2  go  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

And  into  dark  Cocytus  pours 

The  burden  of  its  oozy  stores. 

Grim,  squalid,  foul,  with  aspect  dire, 

His  eye-balls  each  a  globe  of  fire. 

The  watery  passage  Charon  keeps, 

Sole  warden  of  those  murky  deeps : 

A  sordid  mantle  round  him  thrown 

Girds  breast  and  shoulder  like  a  zone. 

He  plies  the  pole  with  dexterous  ease, 

Or  sets  the  sail  to  catch  the  breeze, 

Ferrying  the  legions  of  the  dead 

In  bark  of  dusky  iron-red, 

Now  marked  with  age  ;  but  heavenly  powers 

Have  fresher,  greener  eld  than  ours. 

Towards  the  ferry  and  the  shore 

The  multitudinous  phantoms  pour  ; 

Matrons,  and  men,  and  heroes  dead, 

And  boys  and  maidens,  yet  unwed, 

And  youths  who  funeral  fires  have  fed 

Before  their  parents'  eye : 
Dense  as  the  leaves  that  from  the  treen 
Float  down  when  autumn  first  is  keen, 
Or  as  the  birds  that  thickly  massed 
Fly  landward  from  the  ocean  vast, 
Driven  over  sea  by  wintry  blast 

To  seek  a  sunnier  sky. 
Each  in  pathetic  suppliance  stands, 

So  may  he  first  be  ferried  o'er, 
And  stretches  out  his  helpless  hands 

In  yearning  for  the  farther  shore: 
The  ferryman,  austere  and  stern, 
Takes  these  and  those  in  varying  turn, 
While  other  some  he  scatters  wide, 
And  chases  from  the  river  side. 
./Eneas,  startled  at  the  scene, 
Cries,  "  Tell  me,  priestess,  what  may  mean 

This  concourse  to  the  shore  ? 
What  cause  can  shade  from  shade  divide 
That  these  should  leave  the  river  side, 

Those  sweep  the  dull  waves  o'er?  " 
The  ancient  seer  made  brief  reply: 
"  Anchises'  seed,  of  those  on  high 

The  undisputed  heir, 
Cocytus'  pool,  and  Styx  you  soe. 
The  stream  by  whose  dread  majesty 

No  god  will  falsely  swear. 
A  helpless  and  unburied  crew 
Is  this  that  swarms  before  your  view : 
The  boatman,  Charon  :  whom  the  wave 
Is  carrying,  these  have  found  their  grave. 


Virgil.  291 

For  never  man  may  travel  o'er 
That  dark  and  dreadful  flood  before 

His  bones  are  in  the  urn. 
E'en  till  a  hundred  years  are  told 
They  wander  shivering  in  the  cold: 
At  length  admitted  they  behold 

The  stream  for  which  they  yearn." 

There  is  now  an  encounter,  on  ^Eneas's  part,  with  pilot 
Palinurus,  disconsolate  because  his  corpse  lies  unburied. 
The  Sibyl  promises  the  shade  that  the  coast  where  he  per- 
ished shall  bear  a  name  associated  with  his  own — whereat 
his  grief  is  comforted  !  What  an  irony,  such  comfort — irony 
probably  not  intended  by  Virgil,  who  was  no  cynic — on  post- 
humous fame ! 

The   two  adventurers,  ^Eneas  and  the  Sibyl,  come  in  due 


CHARON   LANDING   GHOSTS   FROM    HIS   BOAT. 

course  to  the  banks  of  the  Styx.  Charon,  the  infernal  ferry- 
man, challenges  ^neas,  but  the  Sibyl  speaks  the  hero's 
name  and  shows  the  golden  branch.  This  satisfies  Charon, 
and  he  lets  ^Eneas  step  into  his  boat.  The  crazy  bark  sinks 
deep  under  living  weight,  but  they  all  get  safe  across.  It 
was  to  a  gruesome  place  : 

Lo  !  Cerberus  with  three-throated  bark 

Makes  all  the  region  ring, 
Stretched  out  along  the  cavern  dark 

That  fronts  their  entering. 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


The  seer  perceived  his  monstrous  head 

All  bristling  o'er  with  snakes  uproused, 
And  toward  him  flings  a  sop  of  bread 

With  poppy-seed  and  honey  drowsed. 
He  with  his  triple  jaws  dispread 

Snaps  up  the  morsel  as  it  falls, 
Relaxes  his  huge  frame  as  dead, 

And  o'er  the  cave  extended  sprawls. 
The  sentry  thus  in  slumber  drowned, 
yEncas  takes  the  vacant  ground, 
And  quickly  passes  from  the  side 
Of  the  irremeable 


("  Ir-re'me-a-ble  "  (not  to  be  repassed)  is  Virgil's  own  stately 
Latin  polysyllable,  irrcmeabilis,  transferred  almost  without 
change  into  English.  In  making  this  impressive  transfer 
Conington  follows  Dryden.) 

Hark  !  as  they  enter,  shrieks  arise, 

And  wailing  great  and  sore, 
The  souls  of  infants  uttering  cries 

At  ingress  of  the  door, 
Whom,  portionless  of  life's  sweet  bliss, 

From  mother's  breast  untimely  torn, 
The  black  day  hurried  to  the  abyss 

And  plunged  in  darkness  soon  as  born. 
Next  those  are  placed  whom  Slander's  breath 
By  false  arraignment  did  to  death. 
Nor  lacks  e'en  here  the  law's  appeal, 
Nor  sits  no  judge  the  lots  to  deal. 
Sage  Minos  shakes  the  impartial  urn, 

And  calls  a  court  of  those  below, 
The  life  of  each  intent  to  learn 

And  what  the  cause  that  wrought  them  woe. 
Next  comes  their  portion  in  the  gloom 
Who  guiltless  sent  themselves  to  doom, 
And  all  for  loathing  of  the  day 
In  madness  threw  their  lives  away  : 
How  gladly  now  in  upper  air 
Contempt  and  beggary  would  they  bear, 

And  labor's  sorest  pain  ! 
Fate  bars  the  way  :  around  their  keep 
The  slow  unlovely  waters  creep 

And  bind  with  ninefold  chain. 

Another  class  were  there  whom  love  had  slain.  Virgil,  of 
course,  does  not  "  slip  the  occasion  "  —  indeed  it  was  prob- 
ably an  occasion  expressly  created  by  the  poet  —  to  bring 


Virgil.  293 

about  a  dramatic  encounter  between  /Eneas  and  Dido.  The 
total  effect  commends  Virgil's  art ;  for  the  reader  is  gratefully 
relieved  in  his  feeling  as  to  both  the  two  personages  con- 
cerned : 

'Mid  these  among  the  branching  treen 

Sad  Dido  moved,  the  Tyrian  queen, 

Her  death-wound  ghastly  yet  and  green. 

Soon  as  /Eneas  caught  the  view 

And  through  the  mist  her  semblance  knew, 

Like  one  who  spies  or  thinks  he  spies 

Through  flickering  clouds  the  new  moon  rise, 

The  tear-drop  liom  his  eyelids  broke, 

And  thus  in  tenderest  tones  he  spoke  : 

"Ah  Dido  !  rightly  then  I  read 

The  news  that  told  me  you  were  dead, 

Slain  by  your  own  rash  hand  ! 
Myself  the  cause  of  your  despair  ! 
Now  by  the  blessed  stars  I  swear, 
By  heaven,  by  all  that  dead  men  keep 
In  reverence  here  'mid  darkness  deep, 
Against  my  will,  ill-fated  fair, 

I  parted  from  your  land. 
The  gods,  at  whose  command  to-day 
Through  these  dim  shades  1  take  my  way, 
Thread  the  waste  realm  of  sunless  blight, 
And  penetrate  abysmal  night, 
They  drove  me  forth  :  nor  could  I  know 
My  flight  would  work  such  cruel  woe  : 
Stay,  stay  your  step  awhile,  nor  fly 
So  quickly  from  /Eneas'  eye. 
Whom  would  you  shun  ?  this  brief  space  o'er, 
Fate  suffers  us  to  meet  no  more." 
Thus  while  the  briny  tears  run  down, 
The  hero  strives  to  calm  her  frown, 

Still  pleading  'gainst  disdain  : 
She  on  the  ground  averted  kept 
Hard  eyes  that  neither  smiled  nor  wept, 
Nor  bated  more  of  her  stern  mood 
Than  if  a  monument  she  stood 

Of  firm  Marpesian  grain. 
At  length  she  tears  her  from  the  place 
And  hies  her,  still  with  sullen  face, 

Into  the  embowering  grove, 
Where  her  first  lord,  Sycheeus,  shares 
In  tender  interchange  of  cares 

And  gives  her  love  for  love  ; 
y^neas  tracks  her  as  she  flies, 
With  bleeding  heart  and  tearful  eyes. 


294  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


As  soon  as  ^Eneas  could  stanch  his  flowing  heart  and  eyes, 
he  with  his  guide  advanced  to  the  quarters  of  the  warrior 
dead.  Here  Trojan  ghosts  recognized  him: 

They  cluster  round  their  ancient  friend  ; 

No  single  view  contents  their  eye  : 
They  linger  and  his  steps  attend, 

And  ask  him  how  he  came,  and  why. 

Upon  the  Grecian  slain  a  quite  different  effect  is  produced 
by  the  sight  of  ^Eneas  : 

Some  huddle  in  promiscuous  rout 

As  erst  at  Troy  they  sought  the  fleet ; 

Some  feebly  raise  the  battle-shout  ; 

Their  straining  throats  the  thin  tones  flout 
Unformed  and  incomplete. 

The  Sibyl  checks  a  colloquy  between  ^Eneas  and  De-iph'o- 
bus  with  reminder  that  the  time  was  passing.  Deiphobus 
flees,  and  yEneas  now  beholds  a  gloomy  prison-house  of  pain. 
Virgil  describes  and,  through  the  Sibyl,  relates: 

Hark  !  from  within  there  issue  groans 

The  cracking  of  the  thong, 
The  clank  of  iron  o'er  the  stones 

Dragged  heavily  along, 
tineas  halted,  and  drank  in 
With  startled  car  the  fiendish  din  : 
"  What  forms  of  crime  are  these?"  he  cries, 

"  What  shapes  of  penal  woe? 
What  piteous  wails  assault  the  skies? 

O  maid  !  I  fain  would  know." 
''Brave  chief  of  Troy,"  returned  the  seer, 
"  No  soul  from  guilt's  pollution  clear 

May  yon  foul  threshold  tread  : 
But  me  when  royal  Hecate  made 
Controller  of  the  Avernian  shade, 
The  realms  of  torture  she  displayed, 

And  through  their  horrors  led. 
Stern  monarch  of  these  dark  domains, 
The  Gnosian  Rhadamanthus  reigns: 
He  hears  and  judges  each  deceit, 

And  makes  the  soul  tliose  crimes  declare 
Which,  glorying  in  the  empty  cheat, 

It  veiled  from  sight  in  upper  air. 
Swift  on  the  guilty,  scourge  in  hand, 

Leaps  fell  Tisiphone,  and  shakes 

Full  in  their  face  her  loathly  snakes, 
And  calls  her  sister  band. 


Virgil.  295 

Then,  not  till  then,  the  hinges  grate, 

And  slowly  opes  the  infernal  gate. 

See  you  who  sits  that  gate  to  guard? 

What  presence  there  keeps  watch  and  ward? 

Within,  the  Hydra's  direr  shape 

Sits  with  her  fifty  throats  agape. 

Then  Tartarus  with  sheer  descent 

Dips  'neath  the  ghost-world  twice  as  deep 
As  towers  above  earth's  continent 

The  height  of  heaven's  Olympian  steep. 
'Tis  there  the  eldest  born  of  earth, 
The  children  of  Titanic  birth, 
Hurled  headlong  by  the  lightning's  blast. 
Deep  in  the  lowest  gulf  are  cast, 
Aloeus'  sons  there  met  my  eyes, 
Twin  monsters  of  enormous  size, 
Who  stormed  the  gate  of  heaven,  and  strove 
From  his  high  seat  to  pull  down  Jove. 
Salmoneus  too  I  saw  in  chains, 
The  victim  of  relentless  pains, 
While  Jove's  own  flame  he  tries  to  mock 
And  emulate  the  thunder-shock. 
By  four  fleet  coursers  chariot-borne 
And  scattering  brands  in  impious  scorn 

Through  Elis'  streets  he  rode, 
All  Greece  assisting  at  the  show, 
And  claimed  of  fellow-men  below 

The  honors  of  a  god : 

Fond  fool  !  to  think  that  thunderous  crash 
And  heaven's  inimitable  flash 
Man's  puny  craft  could  counterfeit 
With  rattling  brass  and  horsehoof  s  beat. 
Lo  !  from  the  sky  the  Almighty  Sire 
The  levin-bolt's  authentic  fire 

'Mid  thickest  darkness  sped 
(No  volley  his  of  pine-wood  smoke) 
And  with  the  inevitable  stroke 

Dispatched  him  to  the  dead. 
There  too  is  Tityos  the  accurst, 
By  earth's  all-fostering  bosom  nurst : 
O'er  acres  nine  from  end  to  end 
His  vast  unmeasured  limbs  extend  : 
A  vulture  on  his  liver  preys  : 
The  liver  fails  not  nor  decays  : 
Still  o'er  that  flesh,  which  breeds  new  pangs, 
With  crooked  beak  the  torturer  hangs, 
Explores  its  depth  with  bloody  fangs, 

And  searches  for  her  food  ; 
Still  haunts  the  cavern  of  his  breast, 
Nor  lets  the  filaments  have  rest, 

To  endless  pain  renewed. 


296 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


Why  should  I  name  the  Lapiih  race, 

Pirithous  and  Ixion  base? 

A  frowning  rock  their  heads  o'ertops, 

Which  ever  nods  and  almost  drops: 

Couches  where  golden  pillars  shine 

Invite  them  freely  to  recline, 

And  banquets  smile  before  their  eyne 

With  kingly  splendor  proud  : 
When  lo  !  fell  malice  in  her  mien, 
Beside  them  lies  the  Furies'  queen  : 
From  the  rich  fare  she  bars  their  hand, 
Thrusts  in  their  face  her  sulphurous  brand, 

And  thunders  hoarse  and  loud. 
Here  those  who  wronged  a  brother's  love, 

Assailed  a  sire's  grey  hair, 
Or  for  a  trustful  client  wove 

A  treachery  and  a  snare, 
Who  wont  on  hoarded  wealth  to  brood, 
In  sullen  selfish  solitude, 
Nor  call  their  friends  to  share  the  good 

(The  most  in  number  they) 
Writh  those  whom  vengeance  robbed  of  life 
For  guilty  love  of  other's  wife, 
And  those  who  drew  the  unnatural  sword, 
Or  broke  the  bond  'twixt  slave  and  lord, 

Await  the  reckoning-day. 


SISYPHUS,    IXION,    TANTALUS. 

Ask  not  their  doom,  nor  seek  to  know 
What  depth  receives  them  there  below. 
Some  roll  huge  rocks  up  rising  ground, 
Or  hang,  to  whirling  wheels  fast  bound  ; 


Virgil.  297 

There  in  the  bottom  of  the  pit 
Sits  Theseus,  and  will  ever  sit  : 
And  Phlegyas  warns  the  ghostly  crowd, 
Proclaiming  through  the  shades  aloud, 
"  Behold,  and  learn  to  practice  right, 
Nor  do  the  blessed  gods  despite." 
This  to  a  tyrant  master  sold 
His  native  land  for  cursed  gold, 

Made  laws  for  lucre  and  unmade: 
That  dared  his  daughter's  bed  to  climb: 
All,  all  essayed  some  monstrous  crime, 

And  perfected  the  crime  essayed. 
No — had  I  e'en  a  hundred  tongues, 
A  hundred  mouths,  and  iron  lungs, 
Those  types  of  guilt  I  could  not  show, 
Nor  tell  the  forms  of  penal  woe. 

The  Sibyl,  ending  thus,  once  more  hastens  ^Eneas,  and 
they  go  on  to  the  dwelling-place  of  the  happy  dead.  At  the 
entrance,  ^Eneas  deposits  his  golden  bough.  Virgil  describes 
Elysium  and  its  inhabitants  : 

Green  spnces,  folded  in  with  trees, 
A  paradise  of  pleasances. 
Around  the  champaign  mantles  bright 
The  fullness  of  purpureal  light ; 
Another  sun  and  stars  they  know, 
That  shine  like  ours,  but  shine  below. 
There  some  disport  their  manly  frames 
In  wrestling  and  palsestral  games, 
Strive  on  the  grassy  sward,  or  stand 
Contending  on  the  yellow  sand  : 
Some  ply  the  dance  with  eager  feet 
And  chant  responsive  to  its  beat. 
The  priest  of  Thrace  in  loose  attire 
Makes  music  on  his  seven-stringed  lyre; 
The  sweet  notes  'neath  his  ringers  trill, 
Or  tremble  'neath  his  ivory  quill. 
Here  dwell  the  chiefs  from  Teucer  sprung, 
Brave  heroes,  born  when  earth  was  young, 
Ilus,  Assaracus,  and  he 
"Who  gave  his  name  to  Dardany. 
Marveling,  /Eneas  sees  from  far 
The  ghostly  arms,  the  shadowy  car. 
Their  spears  are  planted  in  the  mead: 
Free  o'er  the  plain  their  horses  feed  : 
Whate'er  the  living  found  of  charms 
In  chariot  and  refulgent  arms, 
13* 


298  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

YVhate'er  their  care  to  tend  and  groom  • 
Their  glossy  steeds,  outlives  the  tomb. 
Others  along  the  sward  he  sees 
Reclined,  and  feasting  at  their  ease 

With  chanted  Paeans,  blessed  souls, 
Amid  a  fragrant  bay-tree  grove, 
Whence  rising  in  the  world  above 
Eridanus  'twixt  bowering  trees 

His  breadth  of  water  rolls. 

Here  sees  he  the  illustrious  dead 
Who  fighting  for  their  country  bled  ; 
Priests,  who  while  earthly  life  remained 
Preserved  that  life  unsoiled,  unstained  ; 
Blest  bards,  transparent  souls  and  clear, 
Whose  song  was  worthy  Phoebus'  ear  ; 
Inventors,  who  by  arts  refined 
The  common  life  of  human  kind, 
With  all  who  grateful  memory  won 
By  services  to  others  done  : 
A  goodly  brotherhood,  bedight 
With  coronals  of  virgin  white. 
There  as  they  stream  along  the  plain 
The  Sibyl  thus  accosts  the  train, 
Musoeus  o'er  the  rest,  for  he 
Stands  midmost  in  that  company, 
His  stately  head  and  shoulders  tall 
O'ertopping  and  admired  of  all : 
"  Say,  happy  souls,  and  thou,  blest  seer, 

In  what  retreat  Anchises  bides  : 
To  look  on  him  we  journey  here, 

Across  the  dread  Avernian  tides." 
And  answer  to  her  quest  in  brief 
Thus  made  the  venerable  chief: 
"  No  several  home  has  each  assigned; 
We  dwell  where  forest  pathways  wind, 
Haunt  velvet  banks  'neath  shady  treen, 
And  meads  with  rivulets  fresh  and  green ; 
But  climb  with  me  this  ridgy  hill, 
Yon  path  shall  take  you  where  you  will." 
He  said,  and  led  the  way,  and  showed 

The  fields  of  dazzling  light : 
They  gladly  choose  the  downward  road, 

And  issue  from  the  height. 

They  find  Anchises  busy  at  an  employment  which  must 
have  afforded  that  highly  patriotic  old  gentleman  much 
pleasure.  He  was  surveying  the  yet  unborn  generations  of 
his  own  destined  progeny.  For  this  Elysium  seems  to  have 


Virgil.  299 

been  not  only  the  home  of  the  beatified  dead,  but  a  waiting- 
place,  an  ante-room,  for  those  that  were  to  live.  Anchises 
descries  ^Eneas  and  salutes  him.  The  son  striving  to  em- 
brace the  sire  is  cheated  with  an  intangible  phantom  in  his 
grasp.  But  a  new  sight  diverts  his  mind : 

Deep  woodlands,  where  the  evening  gale 

Goes  whispering  through  the  trees, 
And  Lethe  river,  which  flows  by 
Those  dwellings  of  tranquillity. 
Nations  and  tribes,  in  countless  ranks, 
Were  crowding  to  its  verdant  banks  : 
As  bees  afield  in  summer  clear 
Beset  the  flowerets  far  and  near 
And  round  the  fair  white  lilies  pour : 
The  deep  hum  sounds  the  champaign  o'er. 
tineas,  startled  at  the  scene, 
Asks  wondering  what  the  noise  may  mean, 
What  river  this,  or  what  the  throng 
That  crowds  so  thick  its  banks  along. 

Anchises  replying  describes  a  kind  of  purgatory  in  which 
souls  linger,  to  become  pure  through  pain,  until,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  millennium,  summoned  they  come  to  the  banks  of  Lethe 
and  thence  drinking  forget  the  past  and  are  born  anew  into 
the  world  of  men.  Readers  will  hardly  need  to  be  told  that 
Virgil  has  thus  prepared  his  way  for  going  over,  in  a  novel 
and  striking  manner,  the  whole  range  of  Roman  history.  It 
will  be  prophecy  at  excellent  advantage,  for  it  will  be  proph- 
ecy after  the  fact.  There  will  be  in  it  magnificent  opportu- 
nity offered  for  compliment  to  the  imperial  house  of  Rome. 
Such  compliment  Virgil  prepares,  compliment  more  elaborate 
and  more  lofty  than  perhaps  ever  before  or  since  in  the  annals 
of  literature  was  laid  by  poet  at  the  feet  of  his  prince.  An- 
chises leads  his  son  yEneas  with  the  Sibyl  to  a  "  specular 

mount," 

whence  the  eye 

Might  form  and  countenance  descry, 
As  each  one  passed  along. 

Anchises  then  takes  up  the  office  of  herald  or  usher,  and 
announces  the  name  and  quality  of  the  illustrious  descend- 


300  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

ants  who  should   prolong  and  decorate    the   Trojan    line. 

We  quote : 

"  Now  listen  what  the  future  fame 
Shall  follow  the  Dardanian  name, 

What  glorious  spirits  wait 
Our  progeny  to  furnish  forth  : 
My  tongue  shall  name  each  soul  of  worth, 

And  show  you  of  your  fate. 
See  you  yon  gallant  youth  advance 
Leaning  upon  a  headless  lance? 
He  next  in  upper  air  holds  place, 
First  offspring  of  the  Italian  race 
Commixed  with  ours,  your  latest  child 
By  Alban  name  of  Silvius  styled, 
Whom  to  your  eye  Lavinia  fair 
In  silvan  solitude  shall  bear, 
King,  sire  of  kings,  by  whom  comes  down 
Through  Trojan  hands  the  Alban  crown. 
Nearest  to  him  see  Procas  shine, 
The  glory  of  Dardania's  line, 
And  Numitor  and  Capys  too, 
And  one  that  draws  his  name  from  you, 
Silvius  ./Eneas,  mighty  he 
Alike  in  arms  and  piety, 
Should  Fate's  high  pleasure  e'er  command 
The  Alban  scepter  to  his  land. 
Look  how  they  bloom  in  youth's  fresh  flower ! 
What  promise  theirs  of  martial  power  ! 
Mark  you  the  civic  wreath  they  wear, 
The  oaken  garland  in  their  hair? 
These,  these  are  they,  whose  hands  shall  crown 
The  mountain  heights  with  many  a  town. 
Shall  Gabii  and  Nomentum  rear, 
There  plant  Collatia,  Cora  here, 
And  leave  to  after  years  their  stamp 
On  ISola  and  on  Inuus'  camp  : 
Names  that  shall  then  be  far  renowned, 
Now  nameless  spots  of  unknown  ground. 
There  to  his  grandsire's  fortune  clings 

Young  Romulus  of  Mars'  true  breed  ; 
From  Ilia's  womb  the  warrior  springs, 

Assaracus'  authentic  seed. 
See  on  his  helm  the  double  crest, 
The  token  by  his  sire  impressed, 
That  marks  him  out  betimes  to  share 
The  heritage  of  upper  air. 
Lo  !  by  his  fiat  called  to  birth 

Imperial  Rome  shall  rise. 
Extend  her  reign  to  utmost  earth, 

Her  genius  to  the  skies, 


Virgil.  301 

And  with  a  wall  of  girdling  stone 
Embrace  seven  hills  herself  alone — 
Blest  in  an  offspring  wise  and  strong : 
So  through  great  cities  rides  along 

The  mighty  Mother,  crowned  with  towers, 
Around  her  knees  a  numerous  line, 
A  hundred  grandsons,  all  divine, 

All  tenants  of  Olympian  bowers. 

Turn  hither  now  your  ranging  eye  : 
Behold  a  glorious  family, 

Your  sons  and  sons  of  Rome  : 
Lo  !  Caesar  there  and  all  his  seed, 
lulus'  progeny,  decreed 

To  pass  'neath  heaven's  high  dome. 
This,  this  is  he,  so  oft  the  theme 
Of  your  prophetic  fancy's  dream, 

Augustus  Csesar,  Jove's  own  strain  ; 
Restorer  of  the  age  of  gold 
In  lands  where  Saturn  ruled  of  old  : 
O'er  Ind  and  Garamant  extreme 

Shall  stretch  his  boundless  reign.  • 

Look  to  that  land  which  lies  afar 
Beyond  the  path  of  sun  or  star, 
Where  Atlas  on  his  shoulder  rears 
The  burden  of  the  incumbent  spheres. 
Egypt  e'en  now  and  Caspia  hear 
The  muttered  voice  of  many  a  seer, 
And  Nile's  seven  mouths,  disturbed  with  fear, 

Their  coming  conqueror  know: 
Alcicles  in  his  savage  chase 
Ne'er  traveled  o'er  so  wide  a  space, 
What  though  the  brass-hoofed  deer  he  killed, 
And  Erymanthus'  forest  stilled, 
And  Lerna's  depth  with  terror  thrilled 
At  twanging  of  his  bow  : 
Nor  stretched  his  conquering  march  so  far, 
Who  drove  his  ivy-harnessed  car 
From  Nysa's  lofty  height,  and  broke 
The  tiger's  spirit  'neath  his  yoke. 
And  shrink  we  in  this  glorious  hour 
From  bidding  worth  assert  her  power, 
Or  ran  our  craven  hearts  recoil 
From  settling  on  Ausonian  soil? 

But  who  is  he  at  distance  seen 
With  priestly  garb  and  olive  green  ? 
That  reverend  beard,  that  hoary  hair 
The  royal  sage  of  Rome  declare, 
Who  first  shall  round  the  city  draw 
The  limitary  lines  of  law, 


302  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Called  forth  from  Cures'  petty  town 
To  bear  the  burden  of  a  crown. 
Then  he  whose  voice  shall  break  the  rest 
That  lulled  to  sleep  a  nation's  breast, 
And  sound  in  languid  ears  the  cry 
Of  Tullus  and  of  victory. 

Say,  shall  I  show  you  face  to  face 
The  monarchs  of  Tarquinian  race, 
And  vengeful  Brutus,  proud  to  wring 
The  people's  fasces  from  a  king? 
lie  first  in  consul's  pomp  shall  lift 
The  axe  and  rods,  the  freeman's  gift, 
And  call  his  own  rebellious  seed 
For  menaced  liberty  to  bleed. 
Unhappy  father  !  howso'e'er 

The  deed  be  judged  by  after  days, 
His  country's  love  shall  all  o'erbear, 

And  unextinguished  thirst  of  praise. 
There  move  the  Decii,  Drusus  here, 
Torquatus,  too,  with  axe  severe, 
And  great  Camillus :  mark  him  show 
Rome's  standards  rescued  from  the  foe  V 
But  those  who  side  by  side  you  see 

In  equal  armor  bright, 
Now  twined  in  bonds  of  amity 

While  yet  they  dwell  in  night, 
Alas  !  how  terrible  their  strife, 
If  e'er  they  win  their  way  to  life, 

How  fierce  the  shock  of  war, 
Tliis  kinsman  rushing  to  the  fight 
From  castellated  Alpine  height, 
That  leading  his  embattled  might 

From  farthest  morning  star  ! 
Kay,  children,  nay,  your  hate  unlearn, 
Jsor  'gainst  your  country's  vitals  turn 

The  valor  of  her  sons  : 
And  thou,  do  thou  the  first  refrain  ; 
Cast  down  thy  weapons  on  the  plain, 
Thou,  born  of  Jove's  Olympian  strain, 

In  whom  my  lifeblood  runs  ! 

One,  victor  in  Corinthian  war, 
Up  Capitol  shall  drive  his  car, 

Proud  of  Achseans  slain  : 
And  one  MyceriEe  shall  o'erthrow, 
The  city  of  the  Atridan  foe, 
And  e'en  ^fiacides  destroy, 
Achilles'  long-descended  boy, 
In  vengeance  for  his  sires  of  Troy, 

And  Pallas'  plundered  fane. 


Virgil.  303 


Who  mighty  Cato,  Cossus,  who 

Would  keep  your  names  concealed  ? 
The  Gracchi,  and  the  Scipios  t\vo, 

The  levins  of  the  field, 
Serranus  o'er  his  furrow  bowed, 
Or  thee,  Fabricius,  poor  yet  proud  ? 
Ye  Fabii,  must  your  actions  done 
The  speed  of  panting  praise  outrun? 
Our  greatest  thou,  whose  wise  delay 
Restores  the  fortune  of  the  day. 
Others,  I  ween,  with  happier  grace 
From  bronze  or  stone  shall  call  the  face, 
Plead  doubtful  causes,  map  the  skies, 
And  tell  when  planets  set  or  rise : 
But  ye,  my  Romans,  sti!1  control 

The  nations  far  and  wide, 
Be  this  your  genius — to  impose 
The  rule  of  peace  on  vanquished  foes, 
Show  pity  to  the  humbled  soul, 

And  crush  the  sons  of  pride." 


Virgil,  they  say,  read  his  sixth  book  aloud  to  Augustus. 
At  the  reading,  Augustus's  sister,  Octavia,  was  present.  This 
sister  had  then  just  lost  a  son,  Marcellus,  dead  at  twenty 
years  of  age.  With  exquisite  art  of  adulation,  perhaps  too 
of  sincerely  sympathetic  consolation,  Virgil,  as  we  are  just 
about  to  show  our  readers,  introduced  at  this  point  a  noble 
and  delicate  tribute  to  young  Marcellus.  The  story  is  that 
the  mother  fainted  with  emotion  when  she  heard  it.  She 
rallied,  to  make  the  fortunate  poet  glad  with  a  great  gift  of 
money.  We  proceed  with  the  resumed  prophetic  strain  of 
Anchises,  allusive  now  to  Marcellus: 


He  ceased  ;  and  ere  their  awe  was  o'er, 
Took  up  his  prophecy  once  more: 
"  Lo,  great  Marcellus  !  see  him  tower 
With  kingly  spoils,  in  conquering  power, 

The  warrior  host  above  ! 
He  in  a  day  of  dire  debate 
Shall  stablish  firm  the  reeling  state, 
The  Carthaginian  bands  o'erride, 
Break  down  the  Gaul's  insurgent  pride, 
And  the  third  trophy  dedicate 

To  Rome's  Feretrian  Jove." 


304  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Then  spoke  /Eneas,  who  beheld 

Beside  the  warrior  pace 
A  youth,  full-armed,  by  none  excelled 

In  beauty's  manly  grace, 
But  on  his  brow  was  naught  of  mirth, 
And  his  fixed  eyes  were  dropped  on  earth  ; 
"Who,  father,  he,  who  thus  attends 

Upon  that  chief  divine? 
His  son,  or  other  who  descends 

From  his  illustrious  line  ? 
What  whispers  in  the  encircling  crowd? 
The  portance  of  his  steps  how  proud  ? 
But  gloomy  night,  as  of  the  dead, 
Flaps  her  sad  pinions  o'er  his  head." 
The  sire  replies,  while  down  his  cheek 

The  tear-drops  roll  apace  : 
"  Ah  son  !  compel  me  not  to  speak 

The  sorrows  of  our  race  ! 
That  youth  the  Fates  but  just  display 
To  earth,  nor  let  him  longer  stay : 
With  gifts  like  these  for  aye  to  hold, 
Rome's  heart  had  e'en  been  overbold. 
Ah  !  what  a  groan  from  Mars's  plain 

Shall  o'er  the  city  sound  ! 
How  wilt  thou  gaze  on  that  long  train, 
Old  Tiber,  rolling  to  the  main 

Beside  his  new-raised  mound  ! 
No  youth  of  Ilium's  seed  inspires 
With  hope  as  fair  his  Latian  sires  : 
Nor  Rome  shall  dandle  on  her  knee 
A  nursling  so  adored  as  he. 
O  piety  !  O  ancient  faith  ! 
O  hand  untamed  in  battle  scathe  ! 
No  foe  had  lived  before  his  sword, 

Stemmed  he  on  foot  the  war's  red  tide 
Or  with  relentless  rowel  gored 

His  foaming  charger's  side. 
Dear  child  of  pity  !  shouldst  thou  burst 
The  dungeon-bars  of  Fate  accurst, 

Our  own  Marcellus  thou  ! 
Bring  lilies  here,  in  handfuls  bring: 
Their  lustrous  blooms  I  fain  would  fling: 
Such  honor  to  a  grandson's  shade 
By  grandsire  hands  may  well  be  paid  : 

Yet  O  !  it  'vails  not  now  ! " 

Mid  such  discourse,  at  will  they  range 
The  mist-clad  region,  dim  and  strange. 
So  when  the  sire  the  son  had  led 
Through  all  the  ranks  of  happy  dead, 


Virgil.  305 

And  stirred  his  spirit  into  flame 
At  thought  of  centuries  of  fame, 
With  prophet  power  lie  next  relates 
The  war  that  in  the  future  waits, 
Italia's  fated  realm  describes, 
Latinus'  town,  Laurentum's  tribes, 
And  tells  him  how  to  face  or  fly 
Each  cloud  that  darkens  o'er  his  sky. — 
Sleep  gives  his  name  to  portals  twain  : 

One  all  of  horn,  they  say, 
Through  which  authentic  specters  gain 

Quick  exit  into  day, 

And  one  which  bright  with  ivory  gleams, 
Whence  Pluto  sends  delusive  dreams. 
Conversing  still  the  sire  attends 

The  travelers  on  their  road, 
And  through  the  ivory  portal  sends 

From  forth  the  unseen  abode. 
The  chief  betakes  him  to  the  fleet, 
Well  pleased  again  his  crew  to  meet  : 
Then  for  Caieta's  port  sets  sail, 

Straight  coasting  by  the  strand : 
The  anchors  from  the  prow  they  hale, 

The  sterns  are  turned  to  land. 

'Let  readers  remark  with  what  fine  artistic  self-restraint 
Virgil  at  the  close  dimisses  the  arduous  subject  of  the  sixth 
book.  No  effort  at  unnaturally  sustaining  the  tension  be- 
yond its  just  end.  The  stream  of  his  verse  has  writhed  in 
long  subterranean  torture,  but  it  issues,  placidly  in  light  and 
peace,  with  calm  unconscious  resumption  of  the  usual  flow 
of  the  narrative.  The  basis  of  the  whole  episode  is  Homeric, 
but  the  majestic  imperial  sweep  of  execution  is  purely,  in- 
imitably, Virgilian. 

Students  of  Milton  will  not  fail  to  note,  in  that  poet's  review 
of  the  history  of  the  world,  given  in  prophetic  recital  to  Adam 
from  the  lips  of  Raphael,  the  "affable  archangel,"  a  likeness 
in  idea  to  Virgil's  sketch  of  Roman  story  put  into  the  mouth 
of  Anchises  in  Elysium.  On  the  whole,  there  is  no  nobler 
poetry  in  Virgil,  no  poetry  at  the  same  time  more  character- 
istic of  the  poet  at  his  highest  and  best,  and  more  character- 
istic of  great  Rome  herself  at  the  summit  of  her  victorious 
pride,  than  is  what  we  have  thus,  from  the  sixth  book  of 


306  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  ^Eneid,  spread  out  in  large  quotation  before  our  readers. 
If  your  heart  does  not  swell,  and  your  imagination  stir  her 
wings,  at  this  touch  from  the  wand  of  the  enchanter,  then 
you  may  conclude  that  his  power  is  powerless  for  you. 

We  have  now  finished  that  part  of  the  y£neid  which  is 
usually  read  by  the  student  in  preparation  for  college.  What 
remains  of  the  poem  we  may  fairly  despatch,  as  necessarily 
\ve  must,  within  very  brief  space,  ^neas,  thrifty  soul,  secures 
for  himself  a  royal  matrimonial  alliance,  which,  however,  in- 
volves him  in  war  with  a  rival,  Turnus  by  name.  This  Tur- 
nus  is  the  foil  to  ^Eneas.  The  foil  is  almost  too  much  for 
the  hero.  It  is  decidedly  by  a  very  narrow  chance,  if  the 
reader's  sympathies  do  not  go  over  from  cold-blooded 
yEneas  to  the  side  of  Turnus  foredoomed  to  be  slain.  After 
many  oscillations  of  fortune  in  war,  the  narration  of  which 
is  mixed  and  prolonged  with  many  episodes  and  many  dia- 
logues, it  is  finally  determined  that  Turnus  and  ^Eneas  shall 
decide  the  strife  by  single  combat.  This  combat,  with  its 
diversified  incidents,  fills  up  the  measure  of  the  twelfth  and 
last  book  of  the  poem.  It  is  the  Iliad  over  again,  but  the 
Iliad  fairly  made  into  the  ^Eneid,  by  a  genius  in  Virgil  as 
clearly  his  own  as  the  genius  of  Homer  was  his.  We  quote 
the  closing  lines.  Turnus  is  overthrown,  after  heroic  struggle 
against  a  foregone  and  foreshown  conclusion  of  the  strife. 
He  confesses  defeat,  resigns  his  betrothed  to  ^Eneas,  but  begs 
to  be  sent  back,  living  or  dead,  to  hre  father.  Now  Virgil : 

Rolling  his  eyes, tineas  stood, 

And  checked  his  sword,  athirst  for  blood. 

Now  faltering  more  and  more  he  felt 

The  human  heart  within  him  melt, 

When  round  the  shoulder  wreathed  in  pride 

The  belt  of  Pallas  he  espied, 

And  sudden  flashed  upon  his  view 

Those  golden  studs  so  well  he  knew, 

Which  Turnus  from  the  stripling  tore 

When  breathless  on  the  field  he  lay, 
And  on  his  breast  in  triumph  wore, 

Memorial  of  the  bloody  day. 


Virgil.  307 

Soon  as  his  eyes  had  gazed  their  fill 

On  that  sad  monument  of  ill, 

Live  fury  kindling  every  vein, 

He  cries  with  terrible  disdain  : 

"  What !  in  my  friend's  dear  spoils  arrayed 

To  me  for  mercy  sue  ? 
'Tis  Pallas,  Pallas  guides  the  blade: 
From  your  cursed  blood  his  injured  shade 

Thus  takes  the  atonement  due." 
Thus  as  he  spake,  his  sword  he  drave 

With  fierce  and  fiery  blow 
Through  the  broad  breast  before  him  spread  : 
The  stalwart  limbs  grow  cold  and  dead : 
One  groan  the  indignant  spirit  gave, 

Then  sought  the  shades  below. 

We  dismiss  our  task  with  Virgil  by  presenting  to  our  read- 
ers the  elaborate  parallel  that  Pope,  in  the  preface  to  his 
translation  of  the  Iliad,  draws  between  the  Greek  poet  and 
the  Roman  : 

"The  beauty  of  his  [Homer's]  numbers  is  allowed  by  the 
critics  to  be  copied  but  faintly  by  Virgil  himself,  though 
they  are  so  just  as  to  ascribe  it  to  the  nature  of  the  Latin 
tongue.  Indeed,  the  Greek  has  some  advantages,  both  from 
the  natural  sound  of  its  words,  and  the  turn  and  cadence  of 
its  verse,  which  agree  with  the  genius  of  no  other  language. 
Virgil  was  very  sensible  of  this,  and  used  the  utmost  dil- 
igence in  working  up  a  more  intractable  language  to  what- 
soever graces  it  was  capable  of;  and  in  particular  never 
failed  to  bring  the  sound  of  his  line  to  a  beautiful  agree- 
ment with  its  sense.  [A  celebrated  instance  of  this  occurs 
in  the  eighth  book,  line  596  : 

Quadrupedante  putrem  sonitu  quatit  ungula  campum, 

to  represent  the  measured  numerous  tread  of  galloping  horses.  ] 
If  the  Grecian  poet  has  not  bean  so  frequently  celebrated  on 
this  account  as  the  Roman,  the  only  reason  is,  that  fewer  crit- 
ics have  understood  one  language  than  the  other.  Dionysius 
of  Halicarnassus  has  pointed  out  many  of  our  author's 
beauties  in  this  kind,  in  his  treatise  of  the  '  Composition  of 


308  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Words.'  It  suffices  at  present  to  observe  of  his  numbers, 
that  they  flow  with  so  much  ease  as  to  make  one  imagine 
Homer  had  no  other  care  than  to  transcribe  as  fast  as  the 
Muses  dictated  ;  and  at  the  same  time  with  so  much  force 
and  aspiring  vigor  that  they  awaken  and  raise  us  like  the 
sound  of  a  trumpet.  They  roll  along  as  a  plentiful  river, 
always  in  motion,  and  always  full  ;  while  we  are  borne  away 
by  a  tide  of  verse,  the  most  rapid  and  yet  the  most  smooth 
imaginable. 

"  Thus,  on  whatever  side  we  contemplate  Homer,  what 
principally  strikes  us  is  his  invention.  It  is  that  which 
forms  the  character  of  each  part  of  his  work  ;  and  accord- 
ingly we  find  it  to  have  made  his  fable  more  extensive 
and  copious  than  any  other,  his  manners  more  lively  and 
strongly  marked,  his  speeches  more  affecting  and  trans- 
ported, his  sentiments  more  warm  and  sublime,  his  im- 
ages and  descriptions  more  full  and  animated,  his  expres- 
sion more  raised  and  daring,  and  his  numbers  more  rapid 
and  various.  I  hope,  in  what  has  been  said  of  Virgil,  with 
regard  to  any  of  these  heads,  I  have  in  no  way  derogated 
from  his  character.  Nothing  is  more  absurd  and  endless 
than  the  common  method  of  comparing  eminent  writers  by 
an  opposition  of  particular  passages  in  them,  and  forming  a 
judgment  from  thence  of  their  merit  upon  the  whole.  We 
ought  to  have  a  certain  knowledge  of  the  principal  character 
and  distinguishing  excellence  of  each  :  it  is  in  that  we  are  to 
consider  him,  and  in  proportion  to  his  degree  in  that  we  are 
to  admire  him.  No  author  or  man  ever  excelled  all  the 
world  in  more  than  one  faculty :  and  as  Homer  has  done 
this  in  invention,  Virgil  has  in  judgment ;  not  that  we  are  to 
think  Homer  wanted  judgment,  because  Virgil  has  it  in  a 
more  eminent  degree,  or  that  Virgil  wanted  invention,  be- 
cause Homer  possessed  a  larger  share  of  it ;  each  of  these 
great  authors  had  more  of  both  than  perhaps  any  man  be- 
sides, and  are  only  said  to  have  less  in  comparison  with  one 


Virgil.  309 

another.  Homer  was  the  greater  genius,  Virgil  the  better 
artist.  In  one  we  most  admire  the  man,  in  the  other  the 
work;  Homer  hurries  and  transports  us  with  a  commanding 
impetuosity,  Virgil  leads  us  with  an  attractive  majesty; 
Homer  scatters  with  a  generous  profusion,  Virgil  bestows 
with  a  careful  magnificence ;  Homer,  like  the  Nile,  pours 
out  his  riches  with  a  boundless  overflow  ;  Virgil,  like  a  river 
in  its  banks,  with  a  gentle  and  constant  stream.  When  we 
behold  their  battles,  methinks  the  two  poets  resemble  the 
heroes  they  celebrate.  Homer,  boundless  and  irresistible  as 
Achilles,  bears  all  before  him,  and  shines  more  and  more  as 
the  tumult  increases ;  Virgil,  calmly  daring,  like  ^Eneas,  ap- 
pears undisturbed  in  the  midst  of  the  action,  disposes  all 
about  him,  and  conquers  with  tranquillity.  And  when  we 
look  upon  their  machines,  Homer  seems  like  his  own  Jupiter 
in  his  terrors,  shaking  Olympus,  scattering  the  lightnings, 
and  firing  the  heavens;  Virgil,  like  the  same  power  in  his 
benevolence,  .counseling  with  the  gods,  laying  plans  for  em- 
pires, and  regularly  ordering  his  whole  creation." 


Those  who  have  read  the  present  volume,  together  with 
its  fellow  preceding,  are  prepared  to  enter,  with  the  two 
books  following  in  completion  of  the  series,  upon  their  col- 
lege course  in  Greek  and  Latin.  We  shall  hope  to  graduate 
our  readers  in  numbers  increasing  rather  than  diminishing 
to  the  end  of  their  classical  course. 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


APPENDIX. 


READERS  of  this  book  who  may  desire  to  make  some- 
what serious  work  of  the  perusal,  will  appreciate  a  scheme 
of  review  and  self-testing  here  submitted.  We  first  assemble, 
in  alphabetical  order,  the  various  proper  names  having  a 
certain  degree  of  importance  that  occur  in  the  foregoing 
pages,  with  space  enough  adjacent  left  blank  to  receive  the 
entry  of  such  facts  concerning  the  persons  or  places  named 
as  are  most  material. 

We  begin  with  the  principal  names,  that  is,  the  names  of 
the  Latin  authors  whose  writings  are  reproduced,  and  follow 
with  the  names  of  persons  incidentally  or  subordinately 
mentioned.  Then  comes  a  list  of  geographical  and  national 
names. 

We  reprint  here  the  few  prefatory  words  furnished  by 
Rev.  John  H.  Vincent,  D.D.,  for  a  similar  scheme,  his  own 
device,  in  the  Preparatory  Greek  Course — taking  pleasure, 
at  the  same  time,  in  crediting  to  that  enlightened  and 
public-spirited  popular  instructor,  the  origination  of  the  idea 
of  this  series  of  volumes: 

THE  STUDENT'S  MEMORANDA. 

The  reader  of  this  volume  may  profitably  fill  the  blanks 
on  the  following  pages. 

The  labor  required  in  this  is  very  slight,  but  well  performed 
will  be  of  value,  as  it  incites  to  the  exercise  of  judgment,  the 


Appendix.  311 

discipline  of  memory,  and  the  training  in  the  art  of  concise 
and  comprehensive  statement.  Every  effort  to  recall  and  to 
express  one's  knowledge  gives  a  firmer  hold  upon  that  knowl- 
edge, and  renders  it  of  greater  practical  value.  He  who 
does  a  little  work  well,  will  know  how  to  undertake  some- 
thing larger,  and  from  this  experience  will  come  continued 
and  cumulative  success.  The  reader  may  become  the  stu- 
dent, and  the  student,  after  a  while,  the  scholar. 

The  exercises  here  provided  are  for  beginners — whether 
they  be  old  or  young.  They  are  not  tasks  assigned,  but  op- 
portunities offered.  The  work  may  be  done  at  any  time, 
and  in  any  place,  and  after  any  method.  Only  let  the  work 
be  done. 

The  student  having  mastered  the  several  subjects  with 
sufficient  fullness  to  be  able  to  write  out  his  answers,  should 
do  so  with  care  and  neatness,  that  he  may  never  have  reason 
to  be  ashamed  of  the  portion  of  the  book  which  he  has  him- 
self written. 

Record. — Began  reading  this  book   ,  1 88 . » 

Finished  it ,  1 88 . . 

Name 

Residence 

A  Statement. — The  object  of  this  book : 


312  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

An  Outline. — The  contents  of  the  book  stated  in  few  words : 


A  Selection. — In  what  incidents  and  passages  contained  in 
the  book  have  I  been  most  interested?  (Indicate  here  by 
pages.  On  the  pages  mark  the  selections.) 


Biographical. — Give  in  condensed  form  the  principal  facts 
and  characteristics  *  of  the  following  persons  : 
CAESAR  : 


CICERO: 


*  Name. ..  .Family ...  .Time  and  Place  of  Birth. .. .  Prin.  Deeds.... 
Prin.  Writings. . .  .Characteristics. . .  .Time  and  Place  of  Death. . .  .Esti- 
mate of  Influence, . . . 


Appendix.  313 

OVID  : 


SALLUST 


VIRGIL  : 


Acco  : 
Addison  : 
Adherbal 


JEschines; 
Ambiorix: 
14 


314  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Angelico  : 

Antony  : 
Ascanius  : 
Augustus: 
Ariovistus : 
Arnold : 
Ascham : 
Baculus  : 
Blackie : 
Bocchus: 
Boileau : 
Browning,  Mrs. : 
Brutus: 
Burke : 
Byron : 


Appendix.  315 

Butcher  &  Lang: 

Carlyle  : 
Cassivelaunus : 
Catiline  : 
Cato : 
Cavour : 
Chapman  : 
Charon  : 
Choate : 
Cineas: 
Coleridge: 
Collins : 
Cornelia: 
Cranch : 
Crassus: 


316  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Creighton  : 

Creusa: 
Croly : 
Cruttwell : 
Curtius : 
Dumnorix : 
De  Quincey : 
Dido: 
Divitiacus: 
Dolabella : 
Dryden  : 
Egeria : 
Ennius : 
Epicurus : 
Euripides : 


Appendix,  317 

Fabius : 

Frederic  the  Great : 
Froude : 
Gibbon  : 
Goethe : 
Gracchus : 
Hamilcar : 
Hannibal : 
Havelock: 
Hawthorne : 
Hesiod : 
Hiempsal : 
Hirtius: 
Homer : 
Horace : 


318  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English* 

Hortensius: 

Isaiah : 

lulus: 

Johnson: 

Jugurtha: 

Juvenal : 

Labienus : 

Leighton : 

Liddell : 

Livius  Andronicus: 

Livy : 

Long: 

Longinus: 

Long,  John  D. : 

Louis  XIV.: 


Appendix.  •?  T  o 


Lowell : 
Lucilius: 
Lucretius : 
Lucullus: 
Macaulay : 
Maecenas : 
Marcellus  : 
Marius : 
Memmius: 
Metellus : 
Merivale  : 
Micipsa: 
Milton : 
Mommsen : 
Montesquieu : 


Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


Morris : 
Mithridates : 
Motley: 
Naevius : 
Napoleon : 
Nepos  Cornelius : 
Nero  : 
Niobe : 
Octavia : 
Orgetorix : 
Palinurus : 
Phaer : 
Phaeton : 

Philip  of  Macedon 
Plautus : 


Appendix.  321 

Pliny  : 

Plutarch  : 
Pollio: 

Pompey : 
Pope  : 

Pulfio: 
Pyrrhus  : 
Quintilian  : 
Regulus  : 

Romulus  and  Remus : 
Rutilius: 
Saxe : 
Scaurus : 
Scipio  : 
Simcox : 
14* 


322  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Sellar : 

Seneca: 
Shakespeare: 
Sinon : 
Sixtus : 
Spenser  : 
Suetonius :  . 
Sumner : 
Sylla : 

Taylor,  Bayard : 
Tennyson : 
Terence: 
Theocritus : 
Thomson : 
Thucydides : 


Appendix.  323 

Tiberius  : 

Titurius: 
Titus  : 
Trollope  : 
Turnus  : 
Varro  : 

Vercingetorix  : 
Victor  Immanuel  : 
Volux  : 
Webster: 
Wordsworth  : 
Xenophon  : 

Students  will  find  highly  useful  an  atlas  of  Ancient  or 
Classical  Geography.  Such  an  atlas  elegantly  executed  is 
offered  by  Ginn,  Heath,  &  Co.,  at  reasonable  rates. 

Geographical  and  National  :  * 


*  Location  ....  Size  ,  .  .  .  Characteristics.  .  .  .  Influence.  .  .  . 


524  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English, 

Allobroges  : 

Aquitanians : 
Ardennes : 
Balearic : 
Belgians  : 
Bellovaci : 
Britain : 
Cannae : 
Capua  : 
Carthage : 
Chester: 
Cimbrians : 
Crete : 
Delos : 
Dorchester : 


Appendix, 
Eburones : 

Epirus  : 

Getulians : 

Germany  : 

Goths  : 

Helvetians 

Huns : 

Italy : 

Latium  : 

Lingones : 

Luca : 

Lutetia  Parisiorum: 

Macedonia: 

Massilia : 

Mauritania : 


326  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

Nervii : 

Numidia : 
Parthenope  : 
Pontus  : 
Remi : 
Rome  : 
Sequani : 
Sicily : 
Suessiones : 
Suevi : 
Syria : 
Tarentum : 
Teutons : 
Thrace  : 
Tiber  : 


Appendix.  327 

Treviri : 

Utica  : 
Veneti  : 

ROMAN  HISTORY. 

From  Dr.  Vincent's  interesting  and  helpful  little  primer  of 
Roman  History,  belonging  to  the  series  of  Chautauqua 
Text-books,  so-called,  we  lake  the  following  arrangement  of 
periods  and  ages : 

I.  The  TRADITIONAL — about   500  years — from   1,000  B.C. 
to  509  B.C.     And  this  may  be  again  divided  into  two  nearly 
equal  periods: 

1.  From  the  Etruscan  entrance  to  the  founding  of  Rome. 
(It  may  help  the  memory  to  associate  with  the  founding  of 
Rome  by  Romulus,  in  753  B.C.,  the  first  Olympiad  in  Greece, 
776  B.C.,  and  the  taking  into  captivity  of  the  ten  tribes   of 
Israel,  721  B.C.) 

2.  From  the  founding  of  Rome  to  the  expulsion  of  the  last 
of  its  "  seven  kings." 

II.  The  REPUBLICAN — about  500  years — from  509  B.  C.  to 
30  B.  C.     At  the   first  date   (509)  the  last  king    (Tarquinius 
Superbus)  passed  into  exile.     At  the  last  date  (30)  the  first 
emperor  (Augustus  Caesar)  passed  into  power.     The  repub- 
lican period  comprised  four  stages  : 

1.  Tli at  of  class-strife  in  Rome. 

2.  That  of  tribal  feuds  in  Italy. 

3.  That  of  foreign  conquest  in  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa. 

4.  That  of  civil  wars  within  the  republic. 

III.  The    IMPERIAL — about  500    years — from    30    B.  C.   to 
476  A.  D.— from  the  first  emperor — Octavius  (Augustus) — to 


328  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 

the  sixty-second  emperor — Romulus  Augustulus.     This  pe- 
riod comprised  five  ages : 

1.  The  Augustan  Age. 

2.  The  Augustan  Emperors. 

3.  The  Age  of  the  Twelve. 

4.  The  Age  of  the  Decline. 

5.  The  Age  of  the  Vandals. 

From  Mr.  Creighton's  Primer  we  transfer  the  following 

CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE. 

B.  c. 

Rome  founded 753 

The  Romans  drove  out  their  Kings 509 

The  Plebeians  first  had  Tribunes 494 

The  Decemvirs  published  the  Laws  at  Rome 451 

The  Romans  took  Veii  from  the  Etruscans 396 

The  Gauls  took  Rome 389 

The  Laws  of  Licinius  and   Sextius   made   the  Pa- 
tricians and  Plebeians  equal  in  Rome 366 

The  Romans  conquered  the  Latins   338 

The  Romans,  having  conquered  the  Samnites,  be- 
came the  chief  people  in  Italy 290 

The  Romans  drove  Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus,  out  of 

Italy... 275 

First  war  with   Carthage 264-241 

War  with  Hannibal ,  2  19-202 

The  Romans  conquered  the  East 200-160 

The  Romans  conquered  Spain 150 

Destruction  of  Carthage 146 

Tiberius  Gracchus  tried  to  reform  the  Roman  State  133 

Caius  Gracchus  tried  to  reform  the  Roman  State. .  123-121 

War  with  Jugurtha  in  Numidia 1 1 1-106 

Caius  Marius  drove  back  the  Teutones  and  Cimbri 

from  Italy 102 

The  Italians  forced  Rome  to   make   them   Roman 

citizens 91-89 

Civil  War  between  Sulla  and  Marius 88-82 

Cnreus  Pompeius  overcame  Rome's  rebels 74~6i 

Caius  Julius  Qusar  conquered  the  Gauls 58-49 

Caius  Julius  Ciesar  invaded  Britain 54 


Appendix.  329 

Civil  War  between  Pompeius  and  Csesar  in  which         B.  c. 
Cresar  was  conqueror  at  the  Battle  of  Pharsalia       49-48 

Caius  Julius  Caesar  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 

Government  of  Rome 48-44 

Caius  Julius  Caesar  was  murdered 44 

Marcus  Antonius,  Caius  Octavianus,  and  Marcus 
Lepidus  gained  the  chief  power  in  the  Roman 
State 43 

Octavianus  defeated  Antonius  at  Actium,  and  be- 
came the  chief  man  in  Rome 31 

Octavianus,  known  as  Augustus  Caesar,  governed  the 
Roman  Republic  as  Emperor,  B.  C.  30-14  A.  D. 


From  the  Appendix  to  Cruttwell's  "  History  of  Roman  Lit- 
erature "  we  make  a  selection  of 

Questions  or  Subjects  for  Essays   Suggested  by  the  History  of 
Roman  Literature. 

1.  Trace  the  influence  of  conquest  on  Roman  literature. 

2.  Examine  Niebuhr's  hypothesis  of  an  old  Roman  epos. 

3.  Trace  the  causes  of  the  special  devotion  to  poetry  during 

the  Augustan  Age. 

4.  State   succinctly  the   debt  of   Roman  thought,  in  all   its 

branches,  to  Greece. 

5.  Criticise  Mommsen's  remark,  that  the  drama  is,  after  all, 

the  form  of  literature  for  which  the  Romans  were  best 
adapted. 

6.  In  what  sense  is  it  true  that   the  intellectual  progress  of 

a  nation  is  measured  by  its  prose  writers? 

7.  "Latin  literature  lacks  originality."     How  far  is  this  criti- 

cism sound  ? 

8.  It  has  been  remarked,  that  while  every  great  Roman  au- 

thor expresses  a  hope  of  literary  immortality,  few,  if  any, 
of  the  great  Greek  authors  mention  it.  How  far  is  this 
difference  suggestive  of  their  respective  national  charac- 
ters, and  of  radically  distinct  conceptions  of  art  ? 


330  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English. 


9.  Examine  the  traces  of  a  satiric  tendency  in  Roman  liter- 

ature, independent  of  professed  satire. 

10.  "  O  dimidiate  Mcnander."   ,  By  whom  said?      Of  whom 
said?     Criticise. 

11.  "Roman  history  ended  where  it  had  begun,  in  biogra- 

phy."    (Merivale.)      Account  for  the  predominance  of 
biography  in  Latin  literature. 

12.  In  what  sense  can  Ennius  rightly  be  called  the  father  of 
Latin  literature  ? 

13.  Compare  the  Homeric  characters  as  they  appear  in  Virgil 
with  their  originals  in  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  and  with 
the  same  as  treated  by  the  Greek  tragedians. 

14.  Contrast  Latin  with  Greek  (illustrating  by  any  analogies 
that  may  occur  to  you  in  modern  languages)  as  regards 
facility  of  composition.     Did  Latin  vary  in  this  respect 
at  different  periods  ? 

15.  What   are    the    main   differences  in    Latin   between   the 

language    and    constructions   of    poetry    and    those    of 
prose  ? 

16.  Which  of  the  great  periods  of  Greek  literature  had  the 

most  direct  or  lasting  influence  upon  that  of  Rome  ? 

17.  What  influence   did  the  study  of  Virgil  exercise  (i)  on 

later  Latin  literature;    (2)  on  the  Middle  Ages;    (3)  on 
tne  poetry  of  the  eighteenth  century  ? 

1 8.  Give  a  succinct   analysis   of  any  speech  of  Cicero  with 
which  you  are  familiar,  and  show  the  principles  involved 
in  its  construction. 

19.  The    influence    of    patronage    on    literature.       Consider 
chiefly  with  reference  to  Rome,  but  illustrate  from  other 
literatures. 

20.  Prove  the  assertion  that  jurisprudence  was  the  only  form 
of  intellectual    activity    that    Rome    from   first    to    last 
worked  out  in  a  thoroughly  national  manner. 

21.  Which  are  the  most  important  of  the  public,  and  which 

of  the  private,   orations   of  Cicero?     Give  a  short  ac- 
count of  one  of  each  class,  with  date,  place,  and  circum- 


Appendix.  331 

stances  of  delivery.     How  were  such  speeches  preserved? 
Had  the  Romans  any  system  of  reporting? 

22.  Donaldson,  in  his  Varronianus,  argues  that  the  French, 
rather  than  the  Italian,  represents  the  more  perfect  form 
of  the  original  Latin.     Test  this  view  by  a  comparison 
of  words  in  both  languages  with  the  Latin  forms. 

23.  "  Italy    remained     without      national      poetry    or    art." 

(Mommsen.)     In  what  sense  can  this  assertion  be  justi- 
fied ? 

24.  Enumerate  the  chief  losses  which  Latin   literature   has 
sustained. 

25.  Contrast  briefly  the  life  and  occupations  of  an  Athenian 
citizen  in  the  time  of  Pericles  and  Plato,  with  those  of  a 
Roman  in  the  age  of  Cicero  and  Augustus. 


THE    END. 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SEEIES 

COMPK1SING 

*       PREPARATORY  GREEK  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH 
**     PREPARATORY  LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH 
***    COLLEGE  GREEK  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH 
****  COLLEGE  LATIN  COURSE  IN  ENGLISH 


BY  WILLIAM  CLEAVER  WILKINSON. 


OPINIONS. 

Professor  HENRY  F.  BURTON,  Ph.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Latin 
in  the  University  of  Rochester,  says  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin  Course  "]  : 

You  have  certainly  made  an  exceedingly  readable  book.  The  familiar 
gossippy  style  which  yon  adopt,  and  the  numberless  little  digressions  and 
allusions  and  quotations  by  which  you  enliven  the  natural  dryness  of  the 
subject,  cannot  fail  to  fix  the  attention  of  botli  youthful  and  adult  readers.  I 
am  sure,  too,  that  the  beginner  in  Latin  will  get  from  the  book  a  large 
amount  of  information  upon  the  authors  he  reads  which  no  other  work,  and 
perhaps  no  teacher,  would  give  him,  and  what  is  more,  thnt  it  will  help 
greatly  to  give  life  and  reality  to  his  early  reading.  ...  As  one  interested 
in  the  advancement  of  Latin  studies,  I  thank  you. 

Professor  W.  S.  TYLER,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Greek  in 
Amherst  College,  says : 

Professor  Wilkinson  has  executed  with  sound  judgment,  much  learning, 
and  good  taste  the  difficult  task  of  giving  Preparatory  Greek  and  Latin 
Courses  in  English  to  those  who  are  unable  to  obtain  a  college  education. 
The  author  has  shown  his  good  sense  and  his  own  just  appreciation  of  clas- 
sical studies  by  not  professing  to  make  classical  scholars,  but  only  to  impart 
such  a  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature  as  can  be  obtained  without 

1 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


knowing  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages.  The  public  will  look  with  interest 
for  the  third  and  fourth  volumes  in  the  series,  which  are  to  contain  a  similar 
outline  of  College  Greek  and  College  Latin  for  English  readers. 

Miss  FRANCES  E.  LORD,  head  of  the  Department  of  Latin  in  Welles- 
ley  College,  says : 

Prof.  Wilkinson  has  certainly  succeeded  in  giving  the  English  reader  of 
the  Latin  Classics  a  volume  of  delightful  entertainment  and  much  valuable 
information.  Great  taste  and  judgment  have  been  shown  in  the  selections 
and  iu  the  choice  of  the  translators,  while  the  running  commentary  upon 
these,  at  once  so  lively  and  so  keen  in  its  analysis  of  characters  and  styles, 
will  prove  very  attractive  to  the  youthful  student. 

Professor  CHARLES  D.  MORRIS,  LL.D.,  of  Johns  Hopkins  University, 

says  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Greek"]  : 

I  think  that  the  book  is  as  a  whole  well  done,  and  that  it  will  be  read 
with  interest  and  profit,  not  only  by  persons  who  have  no  other  knowledge 
of  the  subject-matter,  but  also  by  those  who  may  wish  to  revive  in  an  easy 
way  knowledge  which  was  once  familiar,  but  has  been  allowed  to  drop 
more  or  less  out  of  remembrance. 

Rev.  HOWARD  CROSBY,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  late  Chancellor  of  the  University 
of  the  City  of  New  York,  says  [of  the  "  Greek  "  volumes] : 

I  know  no  Sanscrit.  If  a  Sanscrit  scholar  should  give  me  in  English  a 
clear  view  of  the  Sanscrit  literature  in  its  style  and  spirit,  so  that  I  could  be 
familiar  with  it  in  all  its  relations  (saving  the  aclnnl  acquaintance  with  the 
language),  I  should  be  greatly  benefited  and  delighted.  ID  is  just  this 
grand  help  that  Professor  Wilkinson  has  given  to  the  enlightened  reader 
who  does  not  happen  to  know  the  Greek  language,  and  who  has  not  time  to 
acquire  it.  His  "Greek  Course'  is  clear,  attractive,  and  judicious  in  its 
treatment  of  the  subject,  and  fills  a  valuable  place  in  our  literature. 

Professor  HENRY  DRISLER,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Greek  in 
Columbia  College,  and  American  Editor  of  Liddell  &  Scott's  Greek  Lex- 
icon, says : 

I  concur  in  the  main  in  Dr.  Crosby's  commendation  of  Professor  Wilkin- 
son's "  Greek  Course." 

Professor  A.  C.  KENDRICK,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Greek 
in  the  University  of  Rochester,  says : 

The  plan  of  the  book  is  quite  unique,  yet  certainly  adapted  to  the  wants 
of  a  large  and  increasing  class  of  young  persons  in  our  country.  Its  exe- 
cution seems  to  me  very  felicitous  ;  it  is  marked  by  the  taste  and  scholar- 
ship which  were  to  be  expected  from  its  accomplished  author.  I  sincerely 

2 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


hope,  and  I  can  scarcely  doubt,  that  it  will  prove  of  benefit  to  a  wide 
circle,  both  as  a  substitute  for,  and  as  an  aid  to,  the  ordinary  preparatory 
course  in  Greek. 

Professor  JAMES  E.  BOISE,  LL.D.,  formerly  head  of  the  Department  of 
Greek  in  the  University  of  Michigan,  says  : 

The  idea  of  the  work  is  original,  and  the  execution,  like  every  thing 
which  Professor  Wilkinson  undertakes,  is  excellent.  The  book  must  prove, 
in  more  ways  than  I  can  enumerate,  of  great  value  to  the  young  student. 

Again  [of  the  Preparatory  Latin] : 

I  shall  lose  no  opportunity  to  recommend  it. 

Professor  LEWIS  E.  PACXASD,  LL.D.,  late  head  of  the  Department  of 
Greek  in  Yale  College,  says : 

I  think  the  book  is  well  adapted  to  accomplish  the  end  at  which  it  aims. 
"While  I  do  not  wholly  agree  with  all  the  author's  views,  I  think  he  has 
succeeded  in  conveying  correct  impressions  on  the  subjects  he  treats,  es- 
pecially in  matters  where  incorrect  impressions  are  too  often  current.  I 
should  say  the  book  would  be  useful  to  a  large  class  of  people. 

Professor  MAETIN  L.  D'OOGE,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Greek 
in  the  University  of  Michigan,  says  : 

The  author,  it  will  be  observed,  guards  his  statement  from  the  erro- 
neous view  that  his  or  any  similar  effort  is  or  can  be  an  equivalent  for  the 
training  of  the  mind,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  L-itin  and  Greek  literatures, 
to  be  gained  by  pursuing  a  college  course ;  nor  does  the  book  anywhere 
convey  any  such  false  impression.  .  .  .  Professor  Wilkinson  gives  the 
readers  of  his  book  a  fair  and  interesting  view  of  the  Greek  people,  and  of 
some  of  their  great  writers,  and  incidentally  furnishes  a  good  deal  of  lit- 
erary criticism  and  information.  .  .  .  His  account  of  the  subject-matter  of 
the  Anabasis  is  especially  clear  and  satisfactory.  The  style  is  throughout 
bright  and  readable.  The  author  evidently  hopes  to  inspire  in  his  readers 
sufficient  interest  to  lead  them  to  read  and  study  Greek  life  and  letters  after 
they  shall  have  finished  his  introductory  course. 

Professor  W.  W.  GOODWIN,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Greek 
in  Harvard  College,  authorizes  us 

To  repeat  his  already  expressed  "  high  opinion  of  the  preparatory  works  " 
of  this  series,  and  to  anticipate  his  equally  cordial  approval  of  and  interest 
in  the  whole  as  completed. 

Professor  E.  S.  SHUMWAY,  Ph.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Latin  in 
Eutgers  College,  says  : 

I  wish  that  I  could  induce  every  parent  in  the  land  to  put  that  book  into 
his  child's  hands  .  .  .  An  invaluable  service  to  the  cause  of  classical  culture. 

3 


AFTER-SCHOOL    SERIES. 


A  second  and  third  reading  only  confirms  my  judgment,  and  adds  to  the 
wish  that  my  early  Greek  teacher  had  possessed  such  an  aid. 

JOSEPH  CUMMINGS,  D.D.,  President  of  the  North-western  University, 
(Evanston,  111.,)  says: 

I  highly  recommend  it. 

S.  C.  BARTLETT,  D.D.,  President  of  Dartmouth  College,  says : 

It  seems  to  me  a  valuable  work,  highly  useful  and  instructive  to  a  larpe 
class  of  thoughtful  persons  who  cannot  h;ive  access  to  the  originals,  and 
calculated  to  stimulate  and  expatid  the  views  of  those  who  can. 

NOAH  PORTEB,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  Yale  College,  says: 

I  have  examined  with  some  care  the  volume  by  Professor  W.  G.  Wilkin- 
son, entitled  "  Preparatory  Greek  Course  in  English,"  and  I  think  it  a  val- 
uable addition  to  the  abundant  apparatus  which  is  now  furnished  to  the 
young  student  of  the  one  language  of  which  no  aspirant  for  complete  cult- 
ure can  contentedly  remain  in  ignorance. 

JAMES  B.  ANGELL,  LL.D.,  President  of  the  University  of  Michigan, 

says: 

The  difficulty  of  bringing  one,  who  does  not  read  the  language  in  which 
a  literature  is  written,  into  close  and  appreciative  and  vital  contact  with  the 
literature  is  very  great,  too  great  to  be  entirely  overcome.  But  you  have 
done  more  than  I  should  have  thought  possible  to  overcome  it.  I  have 
found  myself  thoroughly  interested  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  your 
book.  It  seems  to  me  that  most  readers  must  find  themselves  interested  in 
the  same  manner.  And  if  they  are  interested  they  must  be  profited. 

ALVAH  HOVEY,  D.D.,  President  of  Newton  Theological  Institution, 
says: 

In  these  latter  days  I  do  not  often  read  a  volume  through  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  without  omitting  a  chapter,  paragraph,  or  sentence.  But  I 
have  read  in  this  way  your  "Preparatory  Greek  Course,"  simply  because  it 
is  so  instructive  and  captivating  a  volume  that  I  could  not  persuade  myself 
to  pass  over  any  word  of  it  unread. 

M.  B.  ANDERSON,  LL.D.,  President  of  the  University  of  Rochester, 
says: 

It  seems  to  me  that  your  purpose  is  most  excellent,  and  the  skill  with 
which  you  have  accomplished  it  is  all  that  could  be  desired.  The  work 
will  be  useful,  not  only  to  those  for  whom  it  was  specially  written,  but  also 
to  young  persons  in  a  course  of  classical  study  in  the  academy  or  college. 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


E.  G.  ROBINSON,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  Brown  University,  says : 
Will  undoubtedly  do  a  good  service,  enabling  intelligent  readers  who  are 

unacquainted  with  Greek  to  attain  some  definite  conception  of  the  literature 
of  that  language,  as  well  as  enlightening  and  quickening  into  intellectual 
life  many  a  student  who  otherwise  might  know  little  or  nothing,  beyond 
his  mere  lesson,  of  the  book  he  was  reading. 

Hon.  FEANCIS  WAYLAND,  LL.D,  Dean  of  the  Law  Department  of 
Yale  College,  says : 

I  have  examined  with  great  interest  the  "Preparatory  Greek  Course  in 
English,"  by  Professor  Wilkinson. 

The  object  aimed  at  seems  to  me  most  praiseworthy,  and  it  is  accomplished 
in  a  manner  in  keeping  with  the  design.  I  do  not  believe  that  it  will 
diminish  the  number  of  those  studying  the  original  Greek,  while  it  will  cer- 
tainly cultivate  a  knowledge  and  love  of  the  spirit  of  the  great  Greek  clas- 
sics among  those  who,  but  for  the  aid  of  such  a  crutch,  would  never  have 
walked  over  the  "  plains  of  windy  Troy,"  or  in  "  the  olive  grove  of 
Academe." 

I  shall  be  surprised  if  it  does  not  reach  a  very  wide  circulation. 

F.  B.  PALMER,  Ph.D.,  Principal  of  the  State  Normal  School,  Fredonia, 
N.  Y.,  says : 

It  seems  to  mo  admirably  adapted  to  give  young  students  a  liking  for  old 
authors  who  will  be  ever  young,  and  it  adds  a  completeness  of  view  which 
few  young  persons  can  get  by  a  study  of  the  ancient  authors  in  the  origi- 
nal, or  even  in  the  best  translations. 

Rev.  J.  H.  VINCENT,  D.D.,  Superintendent  of  Instruction,  C.  L.  S.  C., 
says: 

I  have  just  finished,  for  my  own  instruction,  reading  your  "  Preparatory 
Greek  Course  in  English."  My  dear  doctor,  that  book  is  simply  magnifi- 
cent. It  is  a  complete  success  in  every  way,  and  I  read  it  with  the  great- 
est enthusiasm. 

T.  J.  MORGAN,  D.D.,  Principal  of  the  State  Normal  School,  Providence, 
R.  I.,  says: 

An  admirable  book,  unique  and  happy  in  design,  and  well  executed. 
I  wish  I  might  have  had  it  while  pursuing  my  classical  studies  in  college. 

S.  L.  CALDWELL,  D.D.,  President  of  Vassar  College,  says  : 

As  the  idea  is  capital,  the  execution  is  equallj'  good.  The  whole  book 
shows  ample  knowledge  and  good  taste,  and  is  far  enough  from  any  dullness 
such  as  infects  some  books  of  this  kind.  Any  intelligent  person,  and  even 
one  well  read  in  Greek,  may  read  it  to  find  it  stimulating  and  instructive. 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


Again  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin  >!]  ; 
I  find  it  very  interesting  reading. 

Rev.  GEORGE  D.  B.  PEPPEE,  D.D.,  President  of  Colby  University, 
says: 

It  is  well  fitted  to  stimulate  to  a  thorough  fircek  scholarship,  and  equally 
fitted  to  serve  an  admirable  purpose  for  those  who  can  never  study  tho 
Greek. 

Again  [of  the  Preparatory  Latin  "]  : 

Not  till  this  very  morning  have  I  completed  its  perusal.  I  have  been 
unable  to  content  myself  with  any  omissions. 

S.  A.  ELLIS,  Ph.D.,  Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction,  Rochester, 
N.  Y.,  says : 

A  somewhat  critical  examination  of  the  entire  work  full}'  confirms  tho 
favorable  impression  I  formed  at  the  first  reading.  .  .  .  The  book  will  be 
found  to  be  both  scholarly  and  popular — two  qualities  often  divorced  from 
each  other.  ...  I  am  confident  that  whoever  begins  "The  Preparatory 
Greek  Course  in  English ''  will  read  it  through  to  the  end,  and  will  look 
with  eager  expectancy,  as  I  shall,  for  the  other  volumes  that  are  to  follow. 

Subsequently:  In  our  estimation  it  grows  better  and  better. 

Professor  W.  F.  ALLEN,  Professor  of  Latin  in  the  University  of  Wis- 
consin, says: 

It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  better  adapted  to  give  non-classical  readers  a. 
notion  of  what  classical  literature  is  th«n  any  other  book  with  which  I  am 
acquainted.  I  shall  look  with  interest  for  the  succeeding  volumes. 

Again  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin ''] : 

I  will  only  reiterate  in  general  what  I  said  then  in  relation  to  the  new 
book. 

Rev.  A.  P.  PEABODY,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  late  of  Harvard  University,  says : 

I  have  looked  through  Mr.  Wilkinson's  "Preparatory  Greek  Course  in 
English,"  and  am  prepared  to  give  it  my  warmest  commendation.  It  sup- 
plies a  need  which  is  more  and  more  felt  from  year  to  year,  for  two  reasons, 
one  for  which  I  rejoice,  the  higher  standard  of  culture  that  prevails  in  so- 
ciety at  large;  the  other,  inevitable,  yet  to  me  a  subject  of  regret,  the 
diminishing  disposition  on  the  part  of  well-educated  people  to  study  the 
classical  languages. 

C.  K.  ADAMS,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  History  in  the  University  of  Michi- 
gan, says : 

I  found  almost  nothing  to  criticise.  I  cannot  conscientiously  say  less 
than  that  you  have  written  an  excellent  book  on  a  difficult  subject.  I  could 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


not  e  >nmicnd  your  book,  if  I  thought  it  would  be  doomed  a  substitute  for 
studies  in  the  Greek  language.  But  it  seems  to  me  well  calculated  to 
sharpen  the  appetite  instead  of  satisfying  it.  Your  accounts  of  the  larger 
works  are  admirable.  In  short,  the  book  as  a  whole  is  remarkably  well 
adapted  to  tempt  the  reader  to  a  further  acquaintance  with  Greek  litera- 
ture and  life.  And  this  is  saying  much ;  for,  in  these  busy  and  distracting 
times,  education  is  apt  to  drift  away  from  the  safe  anchorage  of  the  classics, 
and  whatever  tends  to  hold  it  to  its  moorings  performs  a  service  for  which 
all  scholars  should  be  grateful. 

Professor  HENRY  S.  FRIEZE,  LL.D.,  head  of  the  Department  of  Latin 
in  the  University  of  Michigan,  says  : 

I  have  been  delighted  with  the  perusal  of  your  critical  notices,  your  own 
translations,  and  your  selections  of  the  translations  of  others,  and  I  sincerely 
congratulate  you  on  the  admirable  style  in  which  you  have  presented  the 
matter  itself,  as  well  as  on  the  character  of  the  matter  itself,  and  the  plan  of 
the  whole  work. 

Again  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin  "] : 

It  cannot  fail  to  do  good  in  opening  a  new  world  of  thought  and  expression 
to  those  who  have  no  access  to  it  through  the  Latin  originals,  and  in  thus 
enlarging  the  circle  of  readers  and  scholars  interested  in  classical  literature. 
I  trust  nothing  will  interrupt  your  plan  of  adding  more  advanced  works  of  a 
similar  kind  to  the  series.  They  will  together  form  a  valuable  contribution 
to  the  history  of  classical  literature. 

Professor  F.  S.  CAPEN,  of  Colby  University,  says : 

Having  studied  Greek  under  Professor  Wilkinson,  I  have,  by  a  most  de- 
lightful experience,  a  personal  knowledge  of  his  thorough  classical  culture  and 
his  ability  to  interest  the  learner.  I  should  have  felt  perfectly  safe  in  rec- 
ommending, without  reserve,  his  "After-School  Series  "  without  seeing  it. 
Having  seen  the  numbers  already  published,  I  find  them  all  that  could  be 
desired. 

The  "Nation"  says 

Of  all  the  devices  for  introducing  non-classical  readers  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  ancient  classics,  we  are  inclined  to  think  that  Mr.  Wilkinson's  (or 
Dr.  Vincent's,  for  to  him  the  compiler  gives  the  credit  of  the  idea)  is  the 
most  effective.  It  is  to  proceed  on  the  course  the  classical  student  himself 
follows:  to  make  the  reader  acquainted  first  with  the  land,  then  with  the 
people,  them  (but  this  is,  perhaps,  a  mistake)  to  give  a  peep  at  the  language, 
and  follow  it  up  with  a  few  fables,  a  dialogue  of  Lucian,  and  enough  of 
Xenophon  and  Homer  to  make  him  tolerably  familiar  with  them.  After  an 
introduction  like  this — and  it  really  gives  one  a  higher  respect  for  our  pre- 

7 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


paratory  course  to  see  how  effective  it  is — the  reader  will  be  able  to  take 
hold  of  Sophocles,  Plato,  and  Demosthenes  with  a  much  better  understand- 
ing. .  .  .  We  think  we  may  safely  predict  that  the  four  volumes  will  present 
a  unique  and  very  satisfactory  view  of  ancient  literature  for  non-classical 
readers. 

Again  : 

The  "Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  English"  is  a  companion  to  the  "Pre- 
paratory Greek  Course  "  of  the  same  editor,  which  we  noticed  a  few  months 
ago.  It  has  the  same  general  character,  and  the  same  excellences  in  execu- 
tion, while  it  shows  a  readier  and  more  experienced  hand. 

Again  : 

Professor  "Wilkinson  makes  rapid  progress  with  his  "After-School  Series," 
and  we  are  inclined  to  rate  his  last  published  volume,  "  College  Greek 
Course  in  English,"  as  the  best  of  the  three  that  have  appeared. 

The  "Westminster  Review"  (October,  1884)  says: 

Popular  works  of  this  kind  ["College  Greek  Course  in  English"],  so  far 
from  degrading  classical  literature,  or  making  the  ignorant  fancy  that  they 
have  the  key  to  all  knowledge,  are  genuine  cultivators  of  the  public  taste. 

The  "  Independent "  says  : 

Whatever  doubts  one  may  have  on  the  start  as  to  the  gain  for  sound 
learning  in  the  numerous  attempts  to  popularize  it  in  manuals  or  in  summer 
schools,  "Where  the  Attic  bird  trills  her  thick-warbled  notes  the  summer 
long,"  he  must  lay  them  aside,  as  we  do,  on  examining  William  Cleaver  Wil- 
kinson's "Preparatory  Greek  Course  in  English."  Jt  aims  at  the  very  end 
which  seems  of  such  questionable  utility  to  many  of  us,  to  give  a  kind  of 
Greek  education  in  English  to  persons  who  cannot  get  it  in  Greek.  We 
have  examined  the  book  with  unusual  care,  and  with  our  doubts  hovering 
near  as  to  the  question  whether  this  were  not  another  attempt  to  acquire 
the  French  language  in  English,  or  to  achieve  something  else  without 
achieving  it.  But  our  doubts  are  laid.  There  is  a  large  class  of  people 
who  will  find  this  book  exceedingly  useful,  and  we  hardly  venture  to  say 
just  how  large  we  think  the  class  is  who  need  not  be  ashamed  to  make  use 
of  it.  .  .  . 

The  "  Literary  World  "  (Boston)  says : 

A  bright  and  useful  book.  .  .  .  The  author  acts  as  a  personal  instructor, 
and  takes  the  pupil  into  his  confidence.,  who  thus  gains  much  of  the  inspira- 
tion which  is  usually  to  be  had  only  from  the  living  teacher.  .  .  .  The  ac- 
counts of  groat  writers  are  excellent,  and  the  selections  from  their  works 
are  admirably  chosen,  the  chapter  comparing  the  various  translations  of 
Homer  being  particularly  suggestive. 

8 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


Again : 

The  iirst  volume  of  this  unique  series  had  our  liearty  commendation,  and 
the  appearance  of  the  second  only  confirms  our  favorable  judgment.  The 
books  will  have,  as  they  deserve,  a  wide  popularity. 

The  "  Latino  "  says  : 

One  of  the  most  valuable  books  for  promoting  the  study  of  Greek  that 
have  yet  been  issued  in  this  country.  ...  Of  value  not  only  to  the  beginner 
in  Greek,  but  also  to  the  parent  who  wishes  to  aid  liis  boy  or  girl,  and  to 
the  teacher  who  would  help  without  weakening  the  student. 

The  "  American  Rural  Home,"  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  says : 

So  clear,  so  fresh,  so  learned,  and  yet  so  simple  is  his  presentation,  so 
discursive  ofteu  and  so  happy  altogether,  that  one  reads  it  as  if  it  were 
romance,  until,  reading  it  thoroughly,  one  may  know  nearly  as  much  of  the 
three  Greek  works  most  familiar  as  the  college  graduate  knows.  It  is 
such  a  book  as  it  seems  somebody  should  have  given  us  long  ago,  and  yet 
Just  such  a  book  as  no  one,  we  suspect,  but  Dr.  Wilkinson  could  have 
made. 

The  "  Baptist  Quarterly  Review  "  says : 

The  author  is  correct  in  supposing  that  there  are  many,  some  in  unsus- 
pected quarters,  who  will  gladly  welcome  such  a  volume. 

.  .  .  The  common  people  will  read  it  gladly,  while  many  a  college  graduate 
may,  by  its  perusal,  add  so  much  to  his  knowledge  of  Xenophon,  Homer, 
etc.,  as  to  suggest  that  he  is  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  forming  new  acquaint- 
ances among  interesting  people. 

The  "  Examiner  "  (New  York)  says: 

It  is  not  often  that  a  man  of  Dr.  Wilkinson's  literary  ability  gives  him- 
self to  the  work  of  enlightening  the  masses.  If  such  men  allow  their  names 
to  appear  on  the  title-pages  of  popular  books,  the  bulk  of  the  work  is  gen- 
erally performed  by  men  of  inferior  ability.  But  here  we  have  a  popular 
book  prepared  by  a  writer  of  first-rate  ability,  and  we  are  assured  that  he 
has  given  to  the  making  of  it  his  best  thought  and  skill.  .  .  .  The  introduc- 
tory remarks  on  Homer  are  particularly  good.  Take  a  few  sentences:  .  .  . 
We  trust  that  no  one  of  our  readers  will  do  himself  the  injustice  of  failing 
to  read  this  book. 

Again : 

.  .  .  The  second  has  all  the  merits  of  the  first,  and  in  a  considerably  higher 
degree.  .  .  .  The  attentive  reader  of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin  Course  in  En- 
glish "  will  have  a  far  more  adequate  idea  of  Latin  literature  than  is  ac- 
quired by  the  average  student  previous  to  matriculation  in  college.  .  .  . 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


The  long  chapter  on  "  The  City  and  the  People  "  we  think  unsurpassed  in 
English  historical  literature  as  regards  philosophical  insight,  grandeur,  and 
sustained  eloquence. 

The  "  Methodist  Quarterly  Review  "  says : 

The  writer  gives  frank  credit  to  Dr.  Vincent  for  the  origination  of  the 
idea  of  this  volume,  as  well  as  ample  suggestions  in  its  production  ;  and 
the  compliment  might  be  reciprocated  that  he  has  filled  out,  and  more  than 
filled  out,  the  programme  with  eminent  ability  and  success.  ...  It  furnishe« 
to  the  young  student  a  clear  idea  of  what  lie  is  going  about.  ...  In  the 
olden  time  his  Latin  grammar  was  put  into  his  hands,  then  his  manual  of 
selections,  with  dictionary,  then  his  Virgil,  and  he  plodded  like  a  miner  cut- 
ting a  tunnel  through  a  rock.  A  book  like  this  would  have  thrown  an  il- 
lumination around  his  path,  revealing  to  him  where  he  was,  and  what  the 
surroundings  of  the  route  he  was  obliged  to  pursue.  Mr.  Wilkinson  lias 
done  his  work  in  the  best  manner,  var)  ing  his  style  through  a  variety  of 
changes,  now  cheerily  colloquial,  now  running  an  even  level,  and  anon  rising 
with  graceful  ease  into  a  strain  of  lofty  eloquence. 

The  "  Canadian  Methodist  Magazine  "  says: 

Designed  to  give  the  English  reader  some  such  knowledge  of  classic  lit- 
erature as  the  college  graduate  obtains  through  the  original  text.  We  vent- 
ure to  say  that  in  many  cases  it  will  be  a  superior  knowledge. 

"  Zion's  Herald  "  says : 

The  idea  is  a  capital  one,  and  is  executed  with  rare  skill. 

The  "Advance"  (Chicago)  says: 

...  To  take  up  this  book  and  catch  a  glimpse  of  ^Kschylus  or  Aris- 
tophanes, in  a  smooth  translation,  will  bring  back  for  a  moment  a  faint 
glow  of  youth,  and,  like  Dido,  we  recognize  the  vestigia  flamm<E.  Professor 
Wilkinson  has  done  his  work  well.  He  has  shown  himself  alert  for  the 
best  translations,  arid  the  notes  and  illustrations  are  valuable  aids  to  the 
student. 

The  "  Nashville  Christian  Advocate  "  says  : 

These  books  afford  the  best  possible  substitute  for  college  culture  in 
Greek  and  Latin. 

The  "  Standard  "  (Chicago)  says : 

The  author  of  these  books  is  a  trained  scholar  and  writer.  He  knows 
what  is  essential,  and  what  not,  in  study  of  the  sort  here  undertaken. 

The  "  Intelligencer  "  (New  York)  says  : 

A  worthy  end  admirably  attained. 

10 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


The  Methodist  Quarterly  Eeview  (South)  says  : 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  majority  of  pupils  would  become  better 
acquainted  with  the  thought,  if  not  the  style,  of  the  classical  authors  by 
reading  carefully  the  book  under  review  than  they  do  at  present  by  their 
labored  efforts  of  translating  a  page  or  two  a  day.  As  even  the  graduates 
of  our  colleges  cannot  compass  the  whole  range  of  Oreek  and  Latin  authors, 
and  but  few  entire  works  of  any  autnor,  this  series  is  worthy  of  their  at- 
tention as  well  as  that  of  the  persons  who  have  n«ver  entered  college.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Wilkinson's  series  is  worthy  of  all  commendation. 

The  "  Interior  "  (Chicago)  says: 

While  the  volume  will  certainly  prove  eminently  useful  in  the  line  for 
which  it  was  originally  intended,  it  will  just  as  certainly  have  strong  attrac- 
tions for  general  literary  students  and  readers  of  all  classes — for  those  who 
have  read,  or  have  undertaken  to  read,  these  authors  in  their  original  Greek, 
as  well  as  for  those  who  have  done  neither. 

The  "  Sunday-School  Journal"  says: 

Many  a  college  graduate  will  get  more  idea  of  what  Herodotus  and  Plato 
and  Sophocles  have  really  written  by  the  reading  of  this  book  for  one  day 
than  they  received  during  their  whole  college  course. 

The  "  Western  Christian  Advocate  "  says  [of  the  "  Preparatory  Latin  "]  : 

This  work  cannot  be  too  highly  commended. 

The  "  Christian  Union"  says : 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  examine  so  careful  and  conscientious  a  piece  of  schol- 
arly workmanship  as  Professor  W.  C.  Wilkinson's  "Preparatory  Latin 
Course  in  English."  Perhaps  nothing  better  can  be  said  of  it  than  that 
it  is  worthy  to  take  its  place  with  its  companion  volume,  the  "  Preparatory 
Greek  Course  in  English." 

A  brief  and  yet  thoroughly  trustworthy  presentation  of  the  literature  and 
thought  of  a  great  nation  is  a  work  which  demands  thoroughgoing  scholar- 
ship and  a  trained  literary  instinct.  In  this  volume  Professor  Wilkinson 
shows  ample  competency  for  the  task  which  he  had  imposed  upon  himself, 
and  the  result  is  a  book  which  can  be  commended  without  qualification  to 
all  those  who  desire  to  familiarize  themselves  with  the  Roman  people  in 
their  intellectual  achievements.  It  is  a  work  of  great  interest  as  well  as 
of  great  power  of  instruction,  since  it  deals  not  with  the  isolated  mental  life 
of  the  people,  but  with  that  life  as  it  stands  related  to  character,  to  history, 
and  to  the  world-wide  extension  of  Roman  rule.  Professor  Wilkinson  has 
succeeded,  in  a  word,  in  sketching,  with  a  bold,  free,  and  sure  hand,  the 
outlines  of  the  mental  and  moral  life  of  one  of  the  great  dominant  races  of 
antiquity. 

11 


AFTER-SCHOOL  SERIES. 


The  "  Atlantic  Monthly  "  says  : 

Writes  with  liveliness  and  with  a  manifest  determination  that  the  render 
shall  find  the  Greek  writers  as  human  and  as  interesting  as  English  or 
American  ones. 

The  "  Louisiana  Journal  of  Education  "  says : 

High-schools  and  academies  in  which  Greek  is  taught  should  be  furnished 
with  a  copy  of  this  admirable  work  for  the  benefit  of  their  pupils  and 
classes.  The  analysis  of  Homer's  Hind,  illustrated  by  quotations  from  the 
best  translators,  may  be  read  with  interest,  even  by  scholars  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced to  comprehend  and  enjoy  the  original. 

The  "  Visitor  and  Teacher  "  (Kirksville,  Mo.)  says  : 

We  have  read  many  of  our  best  novels  and  found  none  more  thoroughly 
enjoyable,  from  first  to  last,  than  this  work,  and  would  unhesitatingly  recom- 
mend it  to  all  lovers  of  good  literature. 

Professor  MOSES  COIT  TYLEE,  LL.D.  (Cornell  University),  says: 
I  have  just  been  looking  over  your  book,  with  real  delight  in  the  ingenious 
and  simple  plan  of  it,  arid  in  its  felicitous  execution. 

EDMUND  CLAEENCE  STEDMAN  says : 

In  the  seclusion  that  this  island  grants  I  have  had  a  chance  to  enjoy  the 
volume  quite  thoroughly.  Tn  fact,  I  have  read  pretty  much  all  of  it.  ... 
Your  presentation  of  Plato,  Aristophanes,  and  Demosthenes  struck  me  as 
being  peculiarly  apt  and  instinctive. 

THOMAS  WENTWOETH  HIGGINSON  says  : 

Your  book  I  have  read  with  much  pleasure.  ...  In  speaking  of  Aris- 
tophanes I  think  you  do  not  render  justice  to  his  poetic  beauty,  especially 
to  the  "Birds,"  which  is  the  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream  "  of  antiquity.  .  .  . 
I  know  that  there  are  many  who  will  be  grateful  for  just  such  a  book. 

WILLIAM  C.  CONANT,  in  "  Vidi  Correspondence,"  speaks 

Of  the  rich  classic  tone  with  which  Professor  Wilkinson's  own  style  and 
substance  are  so  delightfully  penetrated,  while  so  free,  so  humorous,  shrewd, 
and  American. 

JOSEPH  COOK  says : 

Breathes  the  true  Hellenic  spirit. 
Mr.  SPUEGEON  says : 

Bright  and  vivacious. 

12 


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